


New Home

by LadyoftheWoods



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adopted Children, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Fluff, Foster Care, Found Family, Happy Ending, Hurt Morality | Patton Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Parents Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Past Abuse, Prinxiety - Freeform, Sympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Sympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, Therapist Dr. Emile Picani, paternal roman, paternal virgil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 56,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Patton is a child who has been lost in the system. Bounced from family to family because of his shy, skittish personality, until an emergency gets him pulled out of his last nightmare of a home, into a new family which seems actually... nice. But the nice ones, the good ones, never want him. He's sure Roman and Virgil will just lose patience soon and send him back.They're determined to do literally everything and anything to help Patton, and would never even dream of returning him. Convincing Patton of that, is a challenge.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 535
Kudos: 605





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this going or how often it'll be updated, so begin at your own risk.

He was scared.

He didn’t want to be scared.

Ms. Willa had said they were nice people, that they wanted to take care of him. And they seemed nice. 

They spoke softly to him, after Ms. Willa told them he didn’t like loud noises. They didn’t try to make him talk, like some of them did. They let him watch cartoons for no reason, watched with him, and they hadn’t gotten mad at him once, not even when he refused to let them anywhere near close enough to touch him. 

But Ms. Willa had been there most of the time. Doing paperwork or talking with them and now she was gone, and he was alone with them. And just because they were nice for Ms. Willa doesn’t mean they’re actually nice at all. He’d learned that the hard way. Learned a lot of people didn’t care or want the kids like him, just the money they got for it. 

His swollen left cheek and arm bruised in the shape of handprints proved that. So did the circular burns on his torso, though that had been his first family, his ‘real' family. They didn’t feel like real family. He was pretty sure real family was supposed to hold you and love you and be nice. 

He didn’t think he’d ever had a real family before. It made him sad. He’d been though so many places, and nobody wanted him, because he was too shy or too skittish or too weak or too stupid. Such a nice boy, but just not what they were looking for. 

He wished he knew how to be what they wanted. He could pretend! He could pretend to be better, but he couldn’t fake being smart or strong, couldn’t help flinching away from touch or movement and why didn’t anyone just… just want him?! 

And he didn’t even know, yet, if this was gonna be an ok one or not. If this was gonna be like the Pearsons, who fostered him for a bit cause he hadn’t done well in a group home, who were nice enough, and polite, but never acted like he was theirs, never tried to connect with him at all, or if it would be like the Masons, with the shouting and the hurting and the awful, pitch black basement, teeming with spiders.

He flinched at a weird sound, staying tensed though no other sounds came. Just the house, that’s all. He didn’t know this place, what sounds were normal, and it was so dark in his room, too dark, but he didn’t wanna be caught with the lights on after he’d been told to go to bed. 

He was hungry, too. They’d made supper for him, and it was actually good, homemade food, but he hadn’t been hungry, too stressed and scared to eat, but now his stomach grumbled at him angrily.

Maybe… maybe he’d be safe to get some water. The bathroom was right across the hall, he could fill up his cup there.

Of course, as he got out of bed and shuffled towards the door he tripped on the rug and fell, flailing to catch himself. He heard a crash and realized he’d knocked the lamp off the nightstand, breaking it. All of the air rushed out of his lungs and panic surged through him. Oh no, no ,no no! 

A noise. He froze, listening. Footsteps, those were footsteps. Coming closer, closer.

Keep going. Keep going. Please don’t have heard, please let him have this one, please!

The sound stopped outside his door, and he jumped at the soft knock before his door swung open. 

He flinched, breath starting to speed, vision already blurring, he was always such a baby, why did he always cry, no one liked children who cry!

“sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t-to, I'll fix it, I-I'll p-pay for it, I’m s-s…” the rest of his words got caught in his throat as the light switch flipped on, making him flinch back, his back against the side of the bed. “Here, I’ll cl-clean it up, I'll m-make up for it!” he knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t stop himself, as he scrambled forwards, to sweep the pieces into a neat pile, barely wincing when a jagged piece cut open his hand.

He recoiled at a touch, curling up into a ball, curling away. He’d made them mad. Cleaning it up wasn’t enough, he knew it wouldn’t be. He’d broke it, his first night he broke it and he was going to be punished and he deserved it, he did, he knew he did but he was such a coward, he couldn’t even uncurl and just face it.

He heard another set of footsteps and scrambled back further, not hesitating once he realized he could fit under the bed in his curled position, ending up all the way under and against the furthest wall back. He heard muted talking, ceramic being swept up, and he couldn’t stop shaking as he heard someone sit down, saw their shadow. 

“hey, kid.” It was Virgil. He had a nice voice, and had seemed to look at him with something soft and kind earlier, but now he’d messed up, and he didn’t trust his even voice. “I know you won’t believe me, but you aren’t in trouble. It was an accident. That’s ok.” There was a pause, and he heard fabric shifting. “I’m gonna slide you a blanket and pillow, ok? You can come out whenever you’re ready, but I know small spaces feel safer. So. Here.” He said, and a moment later the soft blanket from the bed and the fluffy pillow were slid towards him, and he bit his lip, confused. 

They… weren’t trying to get him out. His other homes would have lifted the bed, would have grabbed his wrist and drug him out, would have hit him for the extra effort. But Virgil didn’t even look under the bed at him, simply sat there, thinking to himself. 

“I get it, kid. More than you probably think I do. I… know how awful some of those places are. The people they let have kids…” Virgil muttered, and Patton could imagine the frown on his face. “We will never hurt you like that. Ever. In any way, for any reason. And I know it’s gonna take time, to believe me. But we’re patient, ok? You can take all the time you need.” He’d scooted a bit closer to the edge of the bed, just enough to make out Virgil's legs, folded under him.

“Roman cleaned up the lamp. We can get a new one tomorrow. Or a nightlight, if you want. Or both. We were going shopping anyway, for stuff you need. Once you feel up for it we’re gonna let you pick stuff to decorate in here. I know it’s pretty plain, but we weren’t sure what you like.” 

“Cartoons!” he blurted, before he could stop himself, slapping his hand over his mouth. Virgil stilled for a moment, before relaxing once more. 

“Cartoons, huh? You and Roman'll have a great time then, I think he loves Disney more than life itself. The theater did the stage version of Lion King awhile ago. He got to play Simba, and for months the only music he’d play was the soundtrack. Drove me insane by the time it was finally over, but he was so happy.” Patton had moved just a bit closer to the edge of the bed, so he could see Virgil's face if he laid on his belly, noting the small smile on his lips, a distant warmth to his eyes. “I'm more of a Tim burton type of guy, myself. But Disney has some good stuff. Gravity falls was a blast.”

He watched cartoons? He didn’t think it was silly and stupid and god, Patton just grow up already? 

“Roman said you cut yourself. Trying to clean up. Is that right?” Virgil asked, enough softness to his voice that Patton didn’t flinch back like he usually would, though he curled his hand tight against his chest. 

“y-yeah.” He mumbled, hearing a long breath from Virgil. 

“ok. I’d really like to take a look at it and clean it, just to be safe, but we don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with that. I’d imagine it's easier with help, but I can slide you the gauze and tape so you can wrap it.” That was the other thing. Choices, Virgil kept giving him choices, speaking like he had choices, and then… and then didn’t get made when he picked the choice that avoided Virgil, that hid him. Like it was ok. It wasn’t. 

“Slide. Please.” He whispered after a moment, sure this was where Virgil would draw the line. Instead a roll of gauze and some tape gently slid towards him, along with a box of tissues. He quickly cleaned the blood off his hand, looking at the cut.

It stung, but it wasn’t too bad, though it was in an awkward spot, across his palm. He easily wrapped it up, taping it in place, clenching his fingers a few times to make sure it stayed, before rolling the supplies back out, surprised as they came rolling right back.

“You should keep those. I don’t know how long you wanna stay down there, but just in case. You’re pretty good at first aid, huh?” He blushed slightly at the almost compliment.

“had to use it a lot.” And there was that odd stillness again, the long, deep breath out as if Virgil were angry but trying not to be which didn’t make any sense because he was being too nice to be angry, unless this was all a trap to lure him out but the could just move the bed-

“yeah? I did too. Roman says that’s why I’m always over prepared for everything. I think it’s just common sense to expect the worst. He says that’s why I’m in therapy, and that’s when I usually stick my tongue out at him because he’s right but I’ll never tell him so." He giggled. Just the smallest sound, and his eyes widened at it, ready to retreat, but Virgil just smiled, not moving from where he leaned against the wall, looking absently up at the ceiling. 

“it is quite silly. I get quite silly, when it comes to him." There was no denying the soft expression on Virgil's face, the warmth and love. He wondered if anyone had ever looked at him that softly, he didn’t think so. It must be nice. 

“Alright. Now that you’re taken care of, I’ll let you get back to sleep. We’ll check on you in the morning, okay? It’s fine if you still don’t wanna come out then, just let us know you’re ok down there so I don’t panic.” He saw Virgil rise, heard footsteps as he stood, stretched, and his heart pounded. He heard the feet move towards the door and he couldn’t help it anymore, he couldn’t stand it, he didn’t want to be alone!

“Wait! Please, please stay, please…” he trailed off, freezing at what he’d just done, scooting back further again with fear. 

“ok. Do you want the light on or off?” he hesitated, wrapping the blanket around himself tightly, holding the pillow to his chest. 

“off.”

“alright.” The room plunged into darkness, though after a moment his eyes adjusted enough he could see the shape of Virgil, coming to sit back down against the wall. “Let me know if it gets too dark and I’ll turn ‘em back on for you. Is it okay, me sitting here?” 

“y-yeah. Where’s… Where’s Mr. Roman?” he asked, curious, but also wary. Virgil huffed. 

“Sent him back to bed. He was a little high strung, so I figured it would be best for him to go calm down somewhere else while I made sure you were ok.” 

“S-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to m-make him m-mad.” 

“Oh, baby, he’s not mad. Well, he is mad, but not at you, ok?” he bit his lip, confused.

“Then… who is he mad at? I broke it.” He asked hesitantly, unsure how far would be overstepping.

“He’s mad at all the adults who made you afraid, who made you believe that a simple accident like this warrants being hurt or punished. He’s mad at the people who hurt you and scared you, Patton, never at you, ok?”

“Ok.” He echoed, not sure if he entirely believed it or not, but it was… something, to think about. He let out a yawn, surprised to find himself so tired, already, usually after an event like that he’d be too scared to sleep, but Virgil's voice was nice, and his presence wasn’t… looming or scary like most other people. He felt calm and even and warm. 

“Getting tired, kid?” Virgil asked, amusement in his voice. He nodded, before remembering the man couldn’t see him. 

“uh huh. You… you'll stay?” he asked, feeling so small, cringing at himself, his neediness. Virgil couldn’t even see him, why would he stay?

“Of course, if that’s what you want, bud. Should I tell you bout the time Roman got his wisdom teeth out? He was so loopy afterwards…” Virgil's voice kept talking, soft and gentle, making him giggle as he recounted Roman declaring waffle cats a national holiday, despite being unable to explain what in the world that actually meant, though he remained adamant waffle cats deserved respect. 

For the first time in years, Patton slipped asleep with a smile on his face, feeling good, from giggling, Virgil's own soft chuckles feeding his. This… was nice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Roman appears!

There was a soft knock on the door, before he heard it crack open. He’d been awake for a little bit already, but had been content to stay where he was, giggling every so often at Virgil's snores. 

He heard a soft sigh, and he could imagine Roman smiling, shaking his head at the sight of Virgil leaning against the wall, asleep on the floor.

“Oh sleeping beauty! I do believe it’s wake up time.” Roman trilled softly, and Patton could see him nudging Virgil with his foot.

“G'away Princey.” 

“Virgil, it’s noon.”

“Cease your assault.” Virgil grumbled as Roman continued poking him with his foot. 

“I'm making waffles and there’s coffee on the counter.” Roman countered, and Virgil’s head shot up. “it’s black like the depths of your soul?” Roman tried, getting a snort from Virgil, who stood and stretched with a groan. 

“god I hate you.” Virgil mumbled, and Patton winced, waiting for the screaming or the slap or the fight. Instead, Roman just chuckled, and Patton could hear the soft kiss he pressed against Virgil. 

“Of course you do, dear. Now go find the coffee.” 

“Patton? Are you awake?” Virgil asked and he winced. He was almost hoping they’d forgot about him. 

“yeah.” He mumbled.

“Do you want to come out yet? Otherwise I'll bring you some waffles, when they’re done.” 

“Y-you'd do that? Bring me food?” he asked shakily. 

“Of course, little prince. What else would we do?” Roman asked, and he didn’t answer. He’d been starved, before. He’d expected they’d starve him out after the clear objection to using force. Roman seemed to realize this after a moment.

“oh. Oh, darling, no. We won’t ever keep food or water or any other necessity away from you as punishment or to get you to do something. You could stay down there for a year, and we’d still bring you three square meals a day (plus snacks, of course)(and cookies.)” Roman whispered conspiratorialy, and he giggled just a bit, surprised as Roman squealed. 

“did you hear that?! Virgil, I made him laugh! Oh stars, that was adorable! You are adorable and precious and I love you.” Roman said, making Patton flush, and laugh again, slightly nervous. 

“Roman, you’re overwhelming him. Calm down.” Virgil scolded lightly, and Roman sighed, but shifted back just a bit. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just… very enthusiastic.” 

“I know, dear. Why do you think I married you? Someone has to counter my existential dread.” Roman huffed, and he heard them exchange another soft kiss. 

“I’m telling Picani you said that.” Roman said smugly, and Virgil groaned, head thumping against Roman's chest. 

“Traitor.” He mumbled.

Hesitantly, he scooted closer to the edge of the bed, peeking out from under it. Virgil was indeed nearly on Roman’s lap, his head pressed against his chest. Roman had his arms wrapped around him, smiling down at him softly, so gently, it made Patton ache. 

Then Roman looked up, and met his eyes, and he was surprised when instead of hardening or turning cold or freezing over, they softened further, the warm brown lighting up, positively melting, and his breath caught because no one, no one, had ever looked at him like that. 

“Hey there, Patty cake.” He murmured, Virgil slipping off his lap. He couldn’t seem to look away from Roman’s eyes. 

“H-hi.” He stammered back, frozen to the spot as Roman shifted closer, eyes darkening ever so slightly. 

“Oh, baby. What did they do to you?” He murmured, the ghost of a touch brushing over his bruised cheek, light enough it didn’t actually hurt, barely even there. They probably hadn’t gotten a good look at it all last night. It had been an emergency placement, it had been nearly seven, and he’d kept his head tucked down most of the time, trying to avoid any kind of eye contact. He felt his lip begin to wobble. Then he couldn’t help it. 

He started sobbing. He felt Roman freeze, then arms slowly, gently, came around him, loose and not restricting, he could easily pull away if he wanted to. He didn’t want to. 

Instead he let Roman pull him closer, his arms just a little tighter now, one hand rubbing his back, the other supporting him as the sobs wracked his body, rocking him gently and hushing him softly. It wasn’t harsh, angry shushes though, no shut ups, or stop whinings, instead using comforting, gentle words and reasurances.

“I d-don’t w-w-wanna go b-back! I don’t… th-they h-hurt me, and h-h-hit me, and gr-ab me, pl-please, I d-don’t, don’t…” 

“Oh, Patton, honey, darling. You’re never going back there, never again. I promise. I absolutely promise.” Roman answers gently, not ceasing his gentle stroking. 

“Y-you’ll g-give me up. Th-they all d-d-do. N-none of the n-n-nice ones w-want me. I c-cry too much, I’m t-t-oo loud, I’m b-bad and I bre-ak th-things and I’m s-so stupid so no one w-wants m-m-me.” He cried, hiccupping on his tears, hands fisting into Roman’s shirt. He felt something solid settle against his back, and realized Virgil was hugging them both from behind, his head resting against Patton’s. 

“You’re not stupid. I’ve known you for barely a day, and I know you’re not stupid, or bad or anything else like that. You’re a smart, kind, wonderful, kid. We are not giving you up. We knew this wouldn’t be easy, for anyone, and that’s ok. It’s ok, Patton.” Virgil murmured, his presence against his back solid and steadying, and he found his tears slowly dying out, his gasps calming into even breaths, though he didn’t move, already exhausted again. 

“do you still want waffles?” Roman asked, once he had settled. He let out a soft giggle at Roman’s uncertain voice, clearly not wanting to upset him. 

“yes, please.” He replied softly, Virgil pulling away from him, standing up with a groan and a stretch that had bones popping. 

“alright. I’ll get out all the fun toppings, too. Chocolate chips, peanut butter, whipped cream, syrup, and anything else your little heart desires.” Roman said, pulling back and gently booping his nose, getting another little giggle out of Patton, who squeaked as Roman stood, lifting him up easily in his arms. 

“Roman! You have to ask, first!” Virgil hissed, eyes wide. 

“it’s ok.” He said softly, smiling just a bit as Roman ruffled his hair softly, sticking his tongue out at Virgil. 

“Yeah, Virgil, it’s ok!” He echoed, making Patton giggle again. Virgil’s face softened as he let out a small sigh, making a show of rolling his eyes, affection written clear across every line of his face. 

“Alright, alright. Pass me the pipsqueak then, and go make the ding dang waffles. If that’s ok.” Virgil asked, looking at Patton warmly. Patton nodded after a moment, squeaking again as Roman shifted him in his arms, passing him over to Virgil, who cradled him carefully, supporting his neck and head as if he were a baby, but it felt… nice. It felt safe, and he leaned into it, hands holding tight to Virgil’s soft sweater, liking the feel of it against his cheek, nuzzling against it with an almost purr. 

“See you in just a bit, Patty cake.” Roman murmured, surprising him again as he quickly kissed his cheek ever so softly, before leaving the room with a smile. 

“Alright, baby. Do you mind if I take a look at your bruises and cuts? I know you bandaged your hand last night, but I just wanna make sure everything’s ok.” Virgil asked softly, and he found himself nodding, though he usually wouldn’t want anyone looking at him in any way for any length of time. The just seemed so… so soft. Especially after his last placement, these people seemed so good. 

He barely noticed the gentle swaying of movement as they entered the bathroom across the hall, sitting down on top of the closed toliet, Patton still in his arms. 

“Can I see your hand?” Virgil asked, and he nodded, stopping his clinging and holding out his hand. He winced as Virgil unwrapped the gauze, one of his arms still around his waist, holding him steady and warm. “Hurts?” Virgil asked. 

“Just a little.” He answered, watching Virgil grab a soft wash rag and stick his finger under the faucet, feeling for the water to be warm before wetting the rag. 

“I’m gonna just go over this to make sure it’s clean, ok? It’ll sting a little bit, but let me know if it hurts too much and I’ll stop.” He nodded again, wincing just a bit at the touch against his cut, but Virgil was soft and gentle as he dabbed at it, wiping away the dried blood, before carefully drying it and wrapping it up in fresh gauze. “There we go. That feel better?” He nodded once more. “good. Do you have any other cuts or scratches I should take a look at?” He flinched, arms curling around himself, knees pulling to his chest.

He could hear them, yelling, shouting. Could feel the hand gripping his arm, dragging him away. The hand that collided with his face when he struggled, stunning him into silence, before tears started to leak out, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. He felt the shove, sending him tumbling down the stairs, each step bruising his chest, digging into his knees, before he landed harshly on the cold stone floor of the basement. The dark biting into his lungs, imagining all the creepy crawlers lurking around, feeling their legs on his skin, making him shiver and scream and beg for the door to open, please, let me out!

“Patton. Can you hear me? Can you breath with me? In… and out.” Virgil inhaled deeply, held it for a moment, before exhaling deeply. He felt Virgil take his hand, guide it to his own chest, so he could feel the steady breaths, the steady beat of his heart. After a few long moments, he managed to copy Virgil, starting to calm. 

“S-sorry. I’m s-s-s-orry.” 

“Hey. It’s ok, kid. It happens sometimes.” 

“it’s b-bad.” He mumbled, and Virgil gently tilted his head up. 

“it’s not. It’s normal, considering all you’ve been through. It’s normal and ok to get scared and overwhelmed sometimes, even if it seems like it’s for no reason. Little things that seem harmless can send you right back to there, and we’ll work to figure out what those things are so we can avoid them, and what helps you feel safest when it does happen. There’s nothing bad about being scared sometimes.” Virgil said seriously, voice warm and still soft. “now, how about we go get some waffles?” He smiled, though it was a bit wattery, nodding. 

“ok.” He went back to clinging to Virgil, who simply scooped him back up in his arms without comment, heading down the stairs. 

And wasn’t that different, too? Roman and Virgil were so… gentle, when they touched him, in their movements, in their voices. Always asking him if he was ok with things before doing them, and then not doing them if he said no. Listening to him, without getting mad when he didn’t want to do something that would make life easier for them. And they seemed to want to hold him. Seemed actually worried about him and his comfort and his safety. Like… like he was actually already theirs, instead of just a paycheck or an act of charity. Like they might actually mean it when the said they wanted him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast goes almost ok at first.

“ah, right on time, little prince! I’ve just finished the first batch of the finest waffles in all the land!” Roman proclaimed as they came into the kitchen from down the stairs and through the living room. His eyes widened at the fluffy looking waffles, mouth nearly watering, especially when he noticed all the toppings Roman had mentioned earlier, and more.

“What would you like, Patton?” Virgil asked, setting him down in a chair at the table, only a few feet away from the kitchen, so he could still easily see them both. 

“chocolate?” He asked hesitantly, not wanting to get in trouble, not knowing what was the right answer, but he loved chocolate, when was the last time he had chocolate? 

“Of course.” He stilled as Virgil came and sat across from him, his own waffle covered in whipped cream and strawberries. Roman placed a plate down in front of him moment later, the chocolate chips melted slightly atop the waffle, which smelled delicious. Virgil rolled his eyes looking at Roman’s waffle. 

“Is there anything that you didn’t put on there, Princey?” It was a fair question. It looked like the toppings bar had exploded on top of Roman’s plate. 

“I just have a much more complex palate than you, you plebian.” He replied, and once again, Patton stiffened, waiting for the yelling or fight or… or something. Instead, Virgil just snorted, shoving far too much waffle in his mouth for a single bite. 

He felt… a bit sick, looking at his own waffle. 

He wasn’t sure why, quite. It looked yummy, it smelled amazing, but the thought of actually eating it made his stomach sour. There was a lump in his throat, and pressure behind his eyes, and he could tell he was about to start crying again, but he didn’t know why. Nothing was… wrong. Everything was good and fine and maybe that was the problem. When everything was good and fine, that meant something bad was about to happen. It was too quiet for it to be a good kind of quiet. 

“You ok, Patton?” Virgil asked, and he managed not to flinch, though he didn’t look up, hands folded in his lap. 

“yeah. Just tired.” He answered, feeling how his voice came out wrong, flat, missing the worried exchange of glances that went on above his head. 

“You wanna come relax on the couch, buddy? We can watch something nice. The Aristocats, maybe.” Roman asked, and he nodded, carefully pushing his plate away. 

“ok.” He answered, wincing as Roman placed a hand against his back, fear washing through him for a moment, before the pressure stopped, and he realized Roman had removed his hand.

He settled on the couch, on the opposite side from Roman, as far as he could be, pulling a blanket tight around himself, curling up against himself, making himself as small as possible, hiding himself almost completely under the soft fabric, trying to hide his shaking, relieved as Roman didn’t comment, merely hummed as he turned on the movie, settling back on the couch.

He didn’t understand what was wrong with him. He’d been here not even a day, and they already were nicer to him than anyone had ever been, treating him like an actual person, saying they weren’t sending him back, making him feel safe, and maybe that’s why he was so scared.

He was always sensitive. He always got attached too quickly, always tried to make everyone happy, always tried to be whatever they wanted so he could stay, but he didn’t know what they wanted him to be yet, and every move he made scared him because every choice they gave was a test, it had to be, and he didn’t know the right answers and if he messed up he didn’t know what would happen. 

He’d let them touch him. He’d let them touch him and hold him and carry him and it had felt so nice, at the time, but it scared him more, that he let himself trust them that much already. He shivered, feeling phantom hands squeezing his wrist, grabbing his upper arm, dragging him and throwing him against a wall. His chest ached and his stomach churned, and he was glad he hadn’t eaten anything, cause he thought he might be sick then if he had.

“patton?” he flinched at his name, realizing he’d started rocking in his seat, something that had always seemed to help, but annoyed most people, he’d gotten in trouble for it so many times, why couldn’t he just stay still and be normal?!

“sorry, I’ll stop.” He whispered, voice barely there. 

“you don’t have to, it’s ok. I was just going to ask if you wanted a hug.” No. He shook his head vehemently. No. No hands on him, touching him, hurting him, it hurt, even when they were gentle it hurt.

“Ok. That’s ok. Can we try something else then?” Roman asked and he shook harder. 

“Got it.” Virgil said, coming back into the room, he hadn’t even heard him leave, and usually he was hyper aware of where everyone in a household was. “here. Can you feel this, Pat?” Virgil asked gently, kneeling before him, so he was slightly lower than his height, even, and he could see him just barely through the blanket. “it’s called a weighted blanket. It’s filled with little beads to make it heavy, so when you use it, it feels like a hug.” Virgil explained, and he warily reached out a hand, feeling the fabric. 

It seemed to be divided into squares, and every square was filled with little beads, that made a soft rain like noise as they shifted against each other, as the blanket moved.

“it helps me feel better, when I’m stressed, or scared. You wanna try it out?” he withdrew his hand, biting his lip before nodding slowly. “ok. It’s a little heavy, but I’m gonna wrap it around your shoulders now.” He heard the beads moving, then felt the blanket settle around him, eyes widening, gasping as the weight settled. Before Virgil could even ask if he like it, he pulled it tighter around himself, practically swamped by it, but it felt so, so, so good.

It was heavy, but not stiflingly so, just a solid, steady weight that did kinda feel like a hug, with none of the overwhelming emotions or sensations that came with touch. It was soft, and warm, and it felt safe, like he was hidden from the world, from everything, and he realized he didn’t feel like rocking, anymore, the weight easing the tension out of his body slowly, like deflating a balloon, as he cocooned himself in it so he was laying down curled into a ball, the blanket pulled up over his head, totally surrounding him except for a tiny space open to breath out of. He felt his breath slowing, evening out as the panic abated, his eyes drifting shut despite himself, the exhaustion coming back tenfold and weighing him down.

He heard Virgil sigh, sitting down in the arm chair next to the couch.

“Poor baby.” Roman murmured. “He’s so scared of everything.” 

“he has reason to be. All the adults in his life have taught him that he’ll be punished for anything and everything he does. There’s no real choices, just trick questions and no matter how you answer, you get it wrong. You get hurt.” Virgil's voice was low and shaky on the last few words, and he felt Roman shift on the couch. 

“are you ok?” he asked softly. 

“It just… brings back memories.” Was Virgil’s low reply. 

“Virg, if it’s too much-“ 

“Don’t. Don’t even dare say it out loud, Roman. Don’t you even dare…” Virgil’s voice was biting and harsh, rousing Patton from his half haze of sleep, listening in to their conversation.

“I know. If it’s too hard on you, mentally-“ 

“It is hard, Roman, but it’s never going to be easy, none of this was ever going to be easy, and that’s half the problem, isn’t it? Because it should be. There shouldn’t be kids who are terrified out of their minds of everyone older than them! He shouldn’t have to be afraid of being starved and beaten and punished for something as simple as rocking to soothe himself. So yeah, it’s hard on me mentally, because I am one of those kids, Roman! I am one, and if someone had ever stepped in earlier, taken me in earlier, maybe what happened later wouldn’t have.   
But sure. He’s a little skittish and scared and shy, and it’s a little hard, and it’s going to take work, but sure. Just send him back like he’s some stray dog.” Virgil got to his feet, pulling away from Roman’s outstretched hand. 

“That’s not what I was going to say. I was going to tell you to just take a break. Go relax and do something else, I can stay with him. You spent the night worrying about him, and I doubt you got more than two hours of sleep. If you had, you’d have enough common sense to know I would never even suggest just… sending him back. I already adore him, Virg, I know you know that. He’s so sweet and small and kind, and I would never dream of giving him up. He’s ours, Virgil. I know we barely know him, we’ve barely had him for a day, but he’s ours.” Roman’s voice was equally fierce and strong and vehement, but not angry. A little hurt and a little bitter, but not angry, like Patton would have expected. After a moment, Virgil sighed, shoulders slumping. 

“I’m sorry, Ro. I know, you wouldn’t, I’m just… I…” He trailed off, and Roman stood, embracing him. Patton was surprised to hear soft sniffles coming from Virgil, who pressed himself closer against Roman. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s ok, Virg. It’s alright. I know it’s overwhelming, I know. But that’s why we wanted him, right? One of the ones who the system forgot, who was let down the most, who needed the safety and space and whatever else that we can give him, whatever he needs. He will never have to be afraid of the world ever again, Virg. I promise.” His voice was quiet and low, a rumble against Virgil’s chest.

“thank you, ro.” 

“Shhh, don’t mention it, darling.” Roman kissed Virgil softly, warm and so tender as he looked at Virgil. “now, go get some sleep. I expect Patton’ll be out for a while. I’ll stay out here and work, make sure he’s alright.” Another gentle kiss, then footsteps padding away, no doubt Virgil heading to the bedroom. 

He heard Roman shuffle some papers, then the sound of a tablet booting up, and Roman sighing, sitting down in the now vacated chair. Soon, he was humming softly to himself, and it lulled Patton further. 

He felt… warm and fuzzy, inside, after hearing them talk about him. Roman had called him theirs. And Virgil had gotten mad at the thought of sending him away. They didn’t know he was awake or listening, they weren’t saying those things just to make him feel better, just to lull him into a false sense of security before ripping the rug out from under him. They were saying that because that’s what they felt. What they meant. 

They wanted him. 

He could just barely start to believe that maybe, maybe, they really meant it when they said they wouldn’t send him back. They wanted him. They wanted to keep him. He was theirs. 

He finally slipped fully into sleep, with that thought playing on repeat in his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton and Roman hang out.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t meant t-to, I’m s-sorry!” He had been hungry, that was all, he hadn’t eaten for two days, and he thought he could just sneak down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, just make a sandwich, something, but they’d caught him, screamed at him, it wasn’t his, how dare he steal from them, didn’t they do enough for him?! 

“Shut up. Do you ever stop whining?” He did, at the slap to his face, that cracked against his cheek bone, sent him recoiling backwards, or would have, except for the firm grip, too tight grip, that dug into his arm, jerked him back. 

He dug his feet in, as he realized where they were taking him, trying to stop, to wiggle free, fear clouding his judgement as the door loomed closer, but they payed him no mind, slamming open the door, then sending him tumbling with a harsh shove. 

He couldn’t recover his balance, and went sommersaulting down the stairs, trying to halt his momentum, trying to halt his fall, but he couldn’t tell which way was up and which was down, pain blooming across his chest, then his head cracked against a step and the world went black.   
…  
He jolted awake, gasping in air, trying to figure out where he was, trying to remember, there was weight on him, there was light, there was softness, there was the dim sound of a television, the soft sound of movement, and after a moment it all rushed back, and he heaved in a breath, starting to calm. 

Roman and Virgil. He was with Roman and Virgil. He wasn’t in the basement. He didn’t think they even had a basement. Oh god, did they have a basement? 

“Patty cake? You ok?” He startled at Roman’s question, forcing his breathing to slow, as he sat up, keeping the blanket curled around his shoulders, turning towards him on the couch. Roman was looking up from a tablet, a stylus in his hand, glasses on his face. He blinked in confusion. Roman didn’t wear glasses, or at least, he’d never seen him with glasses. “Patton?” Roman asked again, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“yeah.” He mumbled, pulling the blanket tighter. “I’m f-fine.” He wasn’t. His chest ached, and his bruised face dimly pounded with his pulse, and he felt slightly naseaus, but that wasn’t unusual. 

“If you say so.” Roman’s voice was full of doubt, but when he looked up, Roman was just smiling gently, not looking mad at all at his lie, just turning back to his tablet with a considering hum. After a moment, Patton let out a soft breath, untensing somewhat, subtly glancing at Roman, curious, trying to catch a glance of what he was doing. 

“You wanna see, buddy?” Roman asked after another long minute of silence, and he quickly ducked back, biting his lip, trying not to shake. It was fine. 

“I-if you want. It’s fine.” He mumbled, not looking up, as he heard Roman shift, the couch dip, Roman sitting right next to him, setting his pulse pounding, quickly distracted as Roman held the tablet on his knee, eyes widening. 

It was an illustration, only partially done, but still cool. There was a twisting dragon spiraling up a crooked tower, the edges of the design covered in dark latticework, the gaps shaped like different animals, the foreground still sketched outlines of hills and trees, the background filled in a flat blue, nothing shaded yet, simple colors, enough to give him an idea of what it would look like finished. 

“wow.” He whispered, still taking in details. 

“You like it?” Roman asked, and he nodded, glancing up at him for a moment. “Well that’s good. It’s for a children’s slash pre-teen fantasy novel, so you’re right in the age range for this one.” 

“It’s a book cover?” He asked, tilting his head. 

“Uh huh. I do illustrations for various publishers, some magazines, mostly book covers. Sometimes they’re dystopian future books, or steam punk type stuff, but fantasy is my favorite. I love drawing mythical creatures and magical forests. There’s more room for me to use my imagination. I’m lucky, I get to do this for my job, I love drawing. I do it for hours, sometimes, Virgil has to take away the tablet to make me take breaks.” 

“that’s cool. I like drawing.” He said, frowning down at his lap. “I’m not good, though. So it’s a waste of time, anyway. I’m not good at a lot of things. It’s cause I’m so dumb.” Roman’s heart cracked at the matter of fact way Patton said that, knowing the kid had been told that so often he believed it, he thought it was true. 

“Doing something you love is never a waste of time. And the only way to get better is to practice. No one starts out perfect at anything. I should dig out all my old sketchbooks and art projects, from when I was in grade school. I didn’t start drawing people with torsos until fifth grade. Their arms came right out of their necks.” Patton giggled a bit at that, and Roman froze, trying to stay as still as possible as Patton shifted ever so slightly so their legs were touching, lightly leaning against his side. “You wanna watch? I can explain what I’m doing, if you want. There’s a lot of layering I have to do yet, so it’ll look a little strange. I’ll be clipping and dragging and flipping through a lot of stuff, but I’ll do my best to make it understandable.” Patton nodded, leaning his weight against him just a little more, and Roman thanked the stars he was ambidextrous, because he really didn’t want to move anything on his right side and risk scaring Patton away. 

He went back to work, explaining what he was doing, pleased as after a while Patton started asking his own questions, relaxing more against his side, his voice losing the tremor it had held earlier, until he seemed content to just watch. 

He looked up at the sound of footsteps, Virgil coming down the stairs, smiling as he looked at the two of them on the couch.

“Hey guys. How’s it going?” he asked, leaning against the arm of the couch, peering down at the tablet. 

“Patton here likes to draw!” Roman answered, and Patton stiffened as Virgil's attention settled on him.

“yeah? We'll have to get you some art supplies, then, when we go shopping for you.” Virgil's voice was gentle, but he swallowed hard, anyway. He wasn’t given things. Things cost something. He’d have to do something to pay them back, especially for something like art supplies, that he didn’t need, that cost extra. His stomach twisted again, and he swallowed hard. 

“You don’t h-have to. It’s f-fine." 

“Honey, can you look at me?” Virgil asked, and he forced his eyes up, fear easing somewhat at the softness on his face. “I know you keep saying things are fine, Pat, but they aren’t. Its not fine you’ve been hurt so badly. It’s not fine you’re scared to do things you like for fun. It’s not fine. It’s ok to be not fine. We want to help. We want to give you things that make you happy, because that makes us happy. There’s no price tag or cost or expectation with it, you don’t owe us anything for it. It’s our job to make sure you have everything you need and want to grow and be happy and have fun, and we want to do that for you. It’s not a burden or an obligation. It’s what we want. We want you, pat. Ok?” 

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, stuck in Virgil's warm, sincere eyes, crinkled slightly with concern, unable to comprehend that anyone would want to make him happy just because. That they wanted him, really, really wanted him.

“it’s ok, little prince. I know it’s a lot to take in.” Roman had slowly raised his arm, and without hesitation, Patton ducked underneath, pressing against his side, Roman's arm resting around him. He was so big, usually it would scare him, he was so big, but his gentle hold wasn’t scary, it was protective and warm, especially once Virgil sat down on his other side, their legs touching, his head resting on Roman's shoulder. 

“w-why?” He asked softly, silent tears slipping down his face. 

“why what, darling?” Roman murmured, and he took a shaking breath in. 

“why m-me? Why… I’m n-not… I’m not smiley or s-smart or pr-etty, I’m not what p-people want, I’m not what p-parents want, not the good ones, not the ones l-like you. I d-deserve the ones who are m-mean, who th-throw me down the st-airs into the dark, into the b-basement, I…” He trailed off, shaking again, feeling Virgil pressing closer, steadying him with his extra weight. “I cry and have n-nightmares and am such a b-aby, I’m not good!” He cried, grip tightening on Roman’s shirt, his chest heaving as he struggled for air, each gasping breath hurting his aching chest, making it worse. 

“thrown down the… into the… oh, honey…” Roman murmured. 

“please… why… I don’t… I don’t get it… I don’t…” He hiccuped, letting Roman shift him into his arms, clinging to his shirt and letting Roman rock him, his sobs only growing, until a shuddering shock of pain pulsed through his chest, and he choked on his gasps, face blanching as spots danced in front of his eyes. 

“ton… pat… ear me? Patton?” He whimpered, pressing his head into Roman’s chest. 

“h-hurts… chest… hurts…” He managed. 

“ok. Can I take a look, buddy? I know you didn’t want me to earlier, but if it’s bothering you…” Virgil said softly, and he hesitated, before nodding. 

He shivered as they unwrapped the blanket from around him, wincing as he lifted his arms above his head, pulling at his shoulder. He felt too exposed, too bare, he hated not having something covering him, usually that was bad, usually it meant hurt, and he kept his eyes down, his hands fisted against his pants. He flinched slightly at Virgil’s sharp intake of breath, before he felt a hand gently tipping up his chin, until he met Virgil’s eyes. 

“You did not deserve this. You. Did. Not. Nothing you could ever do would ever make this, ok.” Virgil stated, soft but firm, trying to control his own tears, because if he freaked out that would freak Patton out, but god, was he close to losing it. 

Patton’s chest was bruised a deep, dark purple, tinged green at the edges, small scrapes across his torso. From Roman’s face, he could tell that his back wasn’t in any better shape. He was sure the kid’s ribs were bruised, if not outright cracked, though there wasn’t much they could do for that. There were also old scars, the clearest ones the rough circles of cigarette burns, that Virgil was all too familiar with, along with the clear green imprints of hands, on his upper arms. 

“what happened, baby?” Roman asked softly, and Patton seemed to deflate further into himself. 

“I t-took some food. I w-wasn’t supposed to and th-ey caught me. I was bad, so they put me in the b-basement, and they p-ushed me and I fell d-down the stairs and hit m-my head. It h-hurt and it’s always so d-dark and there’s sp-spiders b-but this time they f-forgot about me, no one c-came to let me o-out, and I h-h-hurt…” 

“Oh honey. How long, did they leave you there?” 

“T-wo d-days, is wh-what Ms. Willa s-said, but it felt l-l-longer. I hate the d-dark and b-b-bugs and it’s c-cold…” He shivered, and Virgil helped put his shirt back on, opening his arms in invitation, and Patton hesitated, before crawling onto his lap, sighing as he felt Virgil pull the weighted blanket up over the two of them. 

“I know this isn’t easy. I know it’s hard, Patton, and that’s ok. It’s ok.” He’s shaking again, and Virgil just holds him a little closer, a little tighter, helping to quell the energy building up in his limbs that he didn’t know what to do with. “You still wanna know why, we want you, Pat?” Virgil asked softly, and he nodded. 

“it’s because I was you. I was in the system. I was placed in group homes, in bad houses, I was moved around and around and no one wanted to keep me because I was quiet and scared and lashed out, because I’d been in bad homes, so none of the good homes wanted me, which meant I just kept getting put in worse and worse ones. Until… until I got hurt. Really, really, really hurt, and I had to fight back to stay alive, and I almost died. I almost died, because no one took the time or put in the effort to be there, to help me, to care.   
So I want to be that, for you, Patton. I want to be here for you, and care, and protect you, and help you feel safe and loved because I know how it feels to be forgotten and lost and alone. I know how it feels to be sent away again and again because you aren’t the perfect smiling shining kid. I want you because that’s what you aren’t, that’s what you haven’t been able to be, and I want to give you the space and time and safety to be just a kid. I want you, Patton. I want you because I want to give you a home, I want to give you a family, I don’t want you to ever have to be afraid for yourself ever again.   
That’s why we want you. That’s why we’re keeping you. We will never, never, send you away. We will never, ever hurt you. We will never starve you or beat you or lock you up somewhere, we will never punish you for something unfairly, without hearing your side of the story. We want to be your family. I want to be your family. I’m never, never, letting you go, baby. Never.” Virgil finished, kissing the top of his head, and he pressed closer to him, feeling him gently rub his back, pressing his head atop Patton’s. 

“I w-want that. I w-want to st-stay, I want a h-home I don’t… I’ve never h-had one.” 

“You do now, honey. I promise.” Roman’s voice, soft, and he sighs, exhausted once more from crying, from all the panic and fear and memories. He’s warm and Virgil is holding him, so he lets his mind drift, not quite sleeping, but not quite awake, letting their voices lull him into a half state of calm. “You tired, honey?” Roman asked, and he nodded, clinging tighter to Virgil. 

“That’s ok. You haven’t had any good sleep in a long time, have you, baby? I’ll stay right here, ok? I’m right here.” He felt another soft kiss to head, and he let out a small sound of contentment, warmth flooding through him, he didn’t think anyone had ever been this… soft, with him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such soft, much fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so much talk of donuts in this one guys, I'd just had some and let me tell you, they are the best food on the planet.

“Virgil…” Roman trailed off, opting to just wrap his arm around Virgil’s shoulders, snuggling close to him and pulling the blanket over his own lap as well. Virgil burying his face against Roman’s shoulder, taking a deep breath. 

“I want to kill them. I swear to god, Roman, if I had any of their contact information I would kill them. How could they have given those people a kid, how could they have given them Patton?! I don’t understand, I mean, I understand me, getting lost in the system, I was never charming to begin with but him? He’s so sweet and cute, all curly brown hair and blue eyes and freckles, who wouldn’t want him, to begin with?” He ranted furiously into Roman’s shoulder, feeling him sigh, and squeeze his arm gently. 

“you weren’t any less worthy of a good home than he is.” Virgil inhaled a sharp breath, stilling in a way that meant he was trying to compose himself, because dammit, that was not what Roman should have lasered in on, but he did, because he was so good at reading him. “I know you still have trouble believing it, but you weren’t.” 

“I was just threatening homicide and that’s what you’re focused on?” He muttered petulantly, getting a soft chuckle out of Roman. 

“yes. Because it’s the one thing I can help with, right now. There’s nothing to be done about his past terrible homes. I can’t go back in time and make sure he went to a proper one right off the bat. I can’t understand why no one took him earlier, because he is such a sweet little thing. What I can do is make sure the both of you know how much you are loved, and how good you are, and how much you deserve kindness.” Virgil’s lips brushed his cheek, and he turned his head, meeting them for a soft moment, smiling as they parted. 

“was that a diversion tactic? It’s a good one. I rather like it.” Virgil huffed, resting his forehead against Roman’s. 

“So what if it is? Gonna tattle on me to Picani again, you little snitch?” Roman met his lips once more, eyes soft and warm, and god, he could drown in those eyes. 

“I love you.” Roman murmured instead, turning Virgil a light pink, once again burying his head against his shoulder. 

“I love you too, Princey.” He mumbled, softly rubbing Patton’s back as he made a soft noise in his sleep, soothing him back into pleasant dreams. Much like his own were soon to be.  
…  
He woke up… warm. He was almost never warm. He was comfy and cozy, too, snuggled up against something soft, surrounded by warmth, and he felt… safe. Sleepily, he snuggled closer to the warmth, letting out a soft, happy sigh as he felt someone gently rubbing his back. That touch would usually set him off, but it didn’t for some reason. Something that went along with the sense of safety, and he remembered he was with Virgil and Roman, once again. 

He wondered if he’d ever stop forgetting that, when he first wakes up in the morning, if it’ll ever stop feeling like a dream that he’ll wake up from any moment, if the incredulous feeling in his chest will ever stop, when he remembers that he’s safe. 

He heard a sound, and blearily blinked open his eyes, squinting at the sound of the side door opening, hearing Roman humming a moment later. Virgil stirred, and Patton watched his eyes flicker open, before landing on him and positively lighting up with a soft kind of joy, smiling as he looked at him. He was happy. Virgil was happy, because he was there. 

“Morning, Pat. How you feeling?” Virgil asked, eyes crinkled with warmth, and he felt something loosen just a little in his chest, as Virgil gently brushed back his hair. 

“better.” He answered, softly. 

“that’s good. Let me know if anything starts hurting too much, ok? We have some advil, that’ll help with the pain, and icepacks, if you want.” He hesitated, before taking a deep breath and nodding. Asking would be hard. Asking for anything was hard. But it was a little easier, when it was Virgil. 

“Where’d Roman go?” Virgil crinkled his brow, looking towards the kitchen. 

“I’m not sure. Should we go see? It won’t be anything bad, promise.” 

“ok. Let’s go.” He answered, slipping off Virgil’s lap and onto the floor, shivering slightly at the loss of the blanket, arms wrapping around himself. 

“you cold?” Virgil asked, and he nodded. 

“M always cold.” He mumbled back, rubbing his eyes and following Virgil into the kitchen, where Roman was humming away, the smell of coffee filling the air. 

“What are you doing up so early, Princey?” Virgil asked, and Roman paused in his humming to sweep over and kiss Virgil, making Patton giggle. 

“Oh, do you think you’re exempt, little prince?” Roman teased softly, crouching down, but letting Patton decide whether or not he came closer. Patton barely hesitated, before flinging himself into Roman’s arms, who scooped him up and peppered his face with little kisses, until his chest hurt from laughing. 

“All right, all right. Let him breath, Roman.” Virgil said fondly, and Roman sighed dramatically, still cradling Patton close, booping his nose gently to get one more little giggle. 

“I was out getting us goodies. It’s a doughnut day! I didn’t know what you liked, besides chocolate, so I got you a mudpie and a chocolate frosted cake donut with sprinkles. You can try any of ours if you want, though, there’s plenty. Probably too many. My eyes are often larger than my stomach.” Patton’s eyes widened, spotting the plates of pastries behind Roman. 

“I’ve never had doughnuts before.” He said softly, and Roman gasped, setting him down in a chair. 

“Well then, you’ll definitely have to try a little bit of everything! They’re all so good! Ok, so there are several classifications of donuts, the broadest of which is filled or not filled. Filled breaks down to jelly filled, custard filled, or cream filled. Then there’s not filled, which are cake donuts, mud pies, sometimes, glazed donuts, sugar twists. And pastries, like turnovers and fritters and that sort of thing. So, what do you wanna try first?” He blinked owlishly, barely able to process anything Roman had said with how fast he’d been speaking. 

“Oh my god, Princey, you’re such a dork. Here, try this.” Virgil ripped off part of one of the donuts, handing it to Patton. He looked at it consideringly, head tilted slightly, before popping it into his mouth. Instantly, his eyes widened, delight sweeping across his taste buds, at the melting dough against his tongue, the sweetness of sugar and the cinnamon, it was maybe the best thing he’d ever tasted in his entire life. 

“wow.” He whispered, looking up at Roman’s delighted laughter, as the man ruffled his hair, grinning. 

“Liked that, huh? You wanna try this one? It’s got jelly in it. Strawberry, I think.” Roman said, passing him another one. This one had chocolate frosting, and he barely hesitated before he took a bite, Virgil snorting as he set the donut down to chew, feeling sticky jelly on his face, a hint of an itch telling him he probably had frosting on his nose. The next one was a mudpie, cinaminny and chocolatey, then one with sprinkles on it, then one with a sticky glaze that was so sweet it almost made his teeth ache, until he looked down and froze slightly. 

“sorry. I kinda took a bite out of everything.” 

“It’s ok, we don’t mind sharing, and I got them mostly for you, anyway. Which was your favorite?” Roman asked, bouncing excitedly, eyes dancing. 

“Um, the first one, I think.” 

“The sugar twist. Figures, you’ve got a sweet tooth, don’t you? Matches that sweet little smile of yours.” Virgil commented, making him flush and giggle, any worry at eating so much dispelled by Virgil’s own soft smile. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up. In case you didn’t notice you have a little something, well, everywhere, I think.” He almost apologized again for the mess, but then Roman was there with a warm washcloth, gently wiping all the stickiness off his face, his hands, extra careful around his bruised cheek and the cut on his hand, talking softly the whole time, silly stories that made him giggle, until he was full out laughing, something he hadn’t done in years, tears in his eyes as the realization only made him laugh harder, making Roman and Virgil laugh, lighting him up with happiness as the laughing fit slowly fizzled out, leaving him light and grinning and glowing. 

“Oh, I love you, Patton, I love you so much.” Roman murmured, brushing through his hair, impossibly soft. He didn’t know what to say, so he just blushed, making Roman grin wider, wild joy on his face. “You look so happy, I want to make you forever as happy as you are right now.” 

“Roman. You’re overwhelming him again.” Virgil cut in kindly, taking Roman’s shoulders and moving him back a few steps, giving Patton some space to breathe. He hadn’t even realized he’d been short on breath. 

“Sorry, sorry.” 

“it’s ok.” He answered, actually meaning it for once. It was ok. The attention and proximity flustered him and on some level made his body react scared, even though his mind knew he shouldn’t be. Part of it was he didn’t know what to do, with positive attention, with compliments and smiles and declarations of love, they fizzled and popped and burned in his heart, in a nice way, that almost hurt, just a bit, because he had never felt it before. Not properly, not really. 

“Alright, pipsqueak, why don’t you go put on some fresh clothes, and we can go shopping. We need to get you some new clothes, and get some stuff for your room.” He frowned slightly, but didn’t argue, just bit his lip.

“Patton?” 

“You don’t need to spend more money on me. I have clothes. I don’t need decorations or… or anything. You’ve already given me more than any other place. I don’t want you to get sick of me taking up all of your stuff.” 

“We won’t, honey. This is part of us wanting you to be happy. We want to do this. We want to give you things. Don’t worry about the money, ok? You shouldn’t have to worry about that. We’ve saved up for a good while now, since we decided to adopt, so anything your little heart wants is yours.” Was Roman’s reply and his mind froze. 

Adopt. Not foster, not just keep, but adopt. Of course, with all their talk of loving him and wanting him and not sending him back, it was clear they intended to adopt him, but he couldn’t really comprehend it, until Roman said it so casually, like it was a simple thing, like it wasn’t a big deal, like in all his years of being shuffled around he’d ever once heard someone mention adopting him. 

He lunged, throwing his arms around Roman’s neck, feeling the man stiffen in surprise, before hugging him back, rubbing his back just a bit, his breath ruffling his hair, and it all felt so good. 

“thank you.” He whispered, managing not to start sniffling again, shooting Roman and Virgil a giant smile as he drew back, scurrying up to his room to change his clothes, humming happily to himself.   
…  
Roman turned to Virgil, unable to help the giant goofy grin on his face as he stood, feeling light as a feather. Virgil rolled his eyes, but his small smirk mirrored Roman’s, his eyes bright. 

“I. Love. Him.” Roman stated, and Virgil just huffed, watching with amusement. “I would absolutely die for him. He is so amazing, and wonderful, and perfect and I love him. I love you. I love you so much, Virg.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” He scoffed, grinning as Roman pulled him close, hands on his waist, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “But I suppose you’re tolerable.” He conceded, laughing at Roman’s offended squeak. 

“Did you see him, Virg? He looked like an actual kid, all smiley and happy and giggly. He was so cuuuuute, with the jam and sugar all over, and did you hear him laugh? Have you ever heard something so… so… fantastic?” 

“Just a time or two. Your vows weren’t half bad, and there was that time you serenaded me.” Roman’s face turned red, and he pressed his head into Virgil’s chest with a groan. 

“Pleaaaase shut up.” 

“Aw, are you embarrassed, Princey?” He teased. 

“Nooooo. I don’t regret anything about standing outside your window in the middle of winter while the neighbors yelled at me to shut up.” He looked up at Patton coming back into the room, wearing holey jeans and a slightly too small, slightly thinned gray shirt. His shoes looked pretty worn too, Virgil added that to his list of things to get. His smile dimmed slightly as he looked between the two, fiddling with his sleeve. 

“Are you… arguing?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m just teasing him about something silly he did, when we were younger.” Patton brightened up again, the slight tension vanishing from his bearing. 

“Oh! Is this like the waffle cats?” Roman gasped, turning to Virgil with faux indignation. 

“You told him about the waffle cats?” 

“Of course I did, what else were we gonna talk about, once you went to bed?” 

“Oh no, what else has he told you? I can’t believe you’re already embarrassing me in front of our child.” Roman declared, hand on his brow, winking at Patton just to make sure he knew they were playing, rewarded with another small giggle, heart warming again in that strange way, because Roman had called him their child. 

“I’m not embarassng you. You embarrassed yourself, I’m just telling the tales.” Virgil snarked back, turning to Patton and ignoring Roman’s indignant protests, knowing he was just playing it up to get more giggles from Patton, not that he could blame him. God knows the kid hadn’t had enough reasons to laugh in his life. “Now, everyone ready to go?” Roman sighed, but agreed, barely managing to contain his own excitement as Patton tar too casually sidled up to him, glancing between him and the floor before reaching out, slipping his hand into Roman’s as they walked out to the car.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping trip!

Shopping was a… challenge. 

He was ok, with some things. The things he could agree that he probably needed, like the new clothes and the new shoes and the new coat. But even there, there were problems. 

Like when Roman caught him staring wistfully at a pair of light blue, light up shoes, and instantly added them to the cart, instead of the plain white sneakers he’d initially picked out. His face burned and he protested the cost, a pit growing in his stomach, because they cost more than literally anything he’d ever owned. But Roman had just crouched before him, assured him once more that it was alright, that they liked giving him things, that he needn’t worry. 

Then there was the sweater. He’d been wandering just a bit from where Roman and Virgil were, debating on which color shirts to get him, when he saw it. He couldn’t help himself, from reaching out, feeling how soft it was, how warm it must be. The hood had little cat ears on it, and the sleeves had little cat paw mittens on the end, and he loved it immediately. 

He jumped as a hand reached around him, taking it off the hanger, turning to see Virgil, eyes gentle, as he added it to the cart without a word. 

“I don’t need it.” He blurted, flinching back. 

“yes you do. You said you’re always cold, right, baby? Well, this’ll help, perfectly. And I know how much big clothing can help you feel safe.” Virgil answered, shoving his hands deep in his purple patched hoodie’s front pocket. “If it helps you feel safe or good, then it’s a need. Ok?” 

He nodded, even if he couldn’t quite believe it, letting Virgil wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to his side. It felt nice, sheltered from all the noise and smells and colors. He didn’t know the last time he’d been around this many other people, a place this crowded, and it was a bit overwhelming. 

“Roman’s gonna check out, ok? You wanna come with me and get some space?” He nodded again, Virgil, he was learning, was absurdly good at picking up on exactly what he was feeling. 

They settled on a bench between two large decorative ferns in the middle of the large walkway of the mall. People passed by, but no one payed them any attention, and he found himself relaxing. It was much quieter out here, less crowded, and he could breathe. Virgil sat next to him quietly, though it didn’t feel like an awkward quiet, just a contemplative one, like they were both getting their bearings. 

“Do you wanna stop, for the day?” He asked, and Patton blinked, looking up at him, head tilted slightly in a movement Virgil was quickly coming to associate with confusion. “I know this is a lot, all the shopping. I don’t want to overwhelm you. We can do the shopping for your room later, if you want, instead of doing it all at once.” He bit his lip, thinking. 

“It feels… it feels bad. I know it isn’t. Or… it shouldn’t be. But it still feels bad. Cause I haven’t done anything to earn it. And I know you said I don’t gotta. But it still… still feels wrong. Like I’m gonna have to pay it back, somehow, or I’m gonna get in trouble for getting so much, and then I’ll get punished and then…” Patton broke off, but Virgil knew what he was going to say. Then he’d get hurt. 

“It’ll take some time, Pat, for you to get used to this. Used to us, and that’s ok. I know it’s scary, and everything is new and different and it’s hard not to expect the other shoe to drop any second, it’s hard to believe, after everything, that this one would be any different. It’s ok to be scared of us, too, Patton, and it’s ok to tell us when you’re scared of us, so we can change what we’re doing.” He nodded, scooting closer without looking up, tucking himself under Virgil’s arm, trying to keep from crying again. 

“you’re so nice. You might be the nicest person I’ve ever met.” He mumbled, hearing Virgil’s small huff, sensing his sad smile. “I think I wanna be done for the day. If that’s ok.” 

“Of course, baby. Can we just pick out one more thing? I was thinking we should get you a nightlight right away, so you can sleep.” He bit his lip, remembering again the broken lamp, the thought making his hand ache. Virgil kissed the top of his head, squeezing his arm gently, easing his guilt and worry. 

“ok.” 

In the end, they got more than just a nightlight. The nightlight looked like a little butterfly, and gave off a soft blue glow. They moved the bedside table a bit further from the bed, and put a lava lamp on it, he liked watching the bubbles. They got a long string of fairy lights as well, ones that had a couple different light settings, and colors, and a little remote so that he could change them from his bed, and Roman immediately set to work stringing them across his ceiling, like little stars. He watched with interest, smiling at the stories Roman made up, to go with the constellations he was creating with the lights, epic sagas and silly stories, all with a happy ending. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, curled up next to Roman on his bed, Roman’s voice still talking softly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton has a nightmare, Virgil makes supper.

Dark. It was so dark. The floor was freezing cold, and he wasn’t wearing socks, the cold almost burning against his skin. He couldn’t see anything, not even his hand in front of his face, and he wondered if he could see, if his breath would be puffing in front of his face. He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking, it hurt to breath. 

Then he heard it. A soft, distant chittering, the sound of something big, too big, skittering across the floor, and his breath froze in his chest. He heard an echoing call closer, and he tried to stand, but his legs were numb, so he crawled, away from the noise. 

He screeched as he ran into something sticky and fine, twisting and fighting to get it off, but that only tangled him further, the threads sticking to his face, his limbs, his hair, he couldn’t get out, couldn’t get it off, it was wrapped around his neck, it was choking him, and the sound, the noise, that awful noise, was coming closer. 

Then he felt the threads twang, and he froze, looking up, scream dying in his throat. Eight huge, red, glowing eyes stared back at him. In their eerie glow, he could see the huge, hairy body, the pointed legs, the sharp pincers. 

The spider charged, and he couldn’t help himself anymore, he screamed, as those hairy legs came around him, wrapping him in a cocoon of sticky thread, and he thrashed, fighting, but his limbs were pinned to his body, and his head was covered, and he couldn’t breathe, he was suffocating, and the spider was hissing now, about to bite him, eat him, and he was becoming weaker, he needed to get out, there was no way out, no air, and he screamed-

He shot upwards, scrambling away, shaking, breaking, terrified, then it was off, the thing was off, he was awake, awake? He’d been dreaming, of course he had, of course giant spiders weren’t real, he was shaking. 

He sensed movement, and his eyes shot up, terror surging up, but it was just Roman, it was Roman, slowly reaching out a hand, placing it palm up on the center of the bed, if he wanted it, a choice, and he clung to it, instantly crawling across the bed and curling up against Roman’s chest, who cooed softly, wrapping around him, surrounding him with warmth and he burrowed against it, Roman’s heart beat thumping against his ears, his steady breaths slowly leveling his own. 

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, honey, it’s alright. You’re alright, you’re ok, Patton.” Roman’s soft murmurs finally filtered in, as did the hand softly brushing through his hair, holding him carefully close, and he couldn’t decide if that made him feel more or less like crying. “Hey, patty cake. You back with me?” Roman asked, as he sniffled. 

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to b-bother you.” 

“You didn’t, honey. You had a nightmare?” He nodded, shaking softly as he thought of it again. “you wanna talk about it? You don’t have to, it just helps, sometimes, to get it all out.” 

“the b-basement. It w-was dark and cold and then there were s-spiders, giant spiders and I got st-stuck in the web and their eyes w-were so big and so close…” He gasped in a breath, clinging to Roman’s shirt, feeling him hold him just a little closer. 

“Oh, darling. I can’t imagine how scary that must have been. But you’re safe now, ok? No spider’s ever gonna get you. Spiders are scared of Virgil, y’know.” Patton blinked up at him, tilting his head. 

“R-really?” Roman nodded sagely. 

“Really. They call him the Spider Scourge. He fought a great battle against them, once, and banished them from the house. Now only the most foolish of spiders choose to spin their webs here, and they are quickly vanquished by Virgil, for he fears no spider. They fear him.” Patton’s eyes were wide as saucers. 

“wow.” He breathed out, Roman ruffling his hair. 

“Indeed. If you ever see one, don’t worry, we’ll come take care of it posthaste.” Roman booped Patton’s nose, delighting in the little giggle it got, Patton smiling up at him now, rubbing away the last of the tears from his eyes. 

“even the hairy creepy crawly death dealers?” Patton asked, making Roman laugh. 

“Especially those ones. Now, should we go see what Virgil’s cooked up for supper? A little birdy told me it’s homemade chicken nuggets.” 

“Homemade? I thought those were only from the freezer.” Patton answered, following Roman out of bed and down the stairs. 

“Not the best ones! No one else can make them like Virgil. He doesn’t even follow a recipe. He has a certain set of ingredients he uses every time, for the breading, but he does it all by smell.” Patton’s eyes widened further, as the smell hit his nose, along with the sound of sizzling oil. 

“Are you talking smack about me to the kid?” Virgil called from the kitchen, and Roman rolled his eyes. 

“So dramatic, no master chef, I was actually complementing your cooking skills. Don’t eat any of his baked goods, though. He can’t bake to save his life.” Roman whispered behind his hand to Patton, who giggled at the slightly offended noise Virgil made. “What? You know I’m right!” 

“As much as I hate to admit it, he is. It shouldn’t be so hard, it’s just measuring stuff.” He grumbled. 

“It isn’t hard, Virg, when you actually measure the ingredients properly and remember to mix the wet and dry ones separately, and remember what you’ve already added and what you haven’t.” Roman teased, bumping against Virgil. “Do you like to bake, Patty cake?” Patton jumped slightly as the conversation turned back to him, hugging his arm in nervousness. 

“I liked the baking shows. Didn’t get to watch them often, but it always looked fun.” 

“We’ll have to have a baking day, then. Most of the cookies are pretty simple to start with, and they’re fun cause you get to decorate them after, and eat cookie dough, of course, that’s the best part.” 

“You’re not supposed to eat the dough, Roman. At least don’t use egg, if you’re going to eat it all.” Virgil replied, flipping the chicken in the pan, another round of loud sizzling erupting. 

“You worry too much, doom and gloom.” Roman kissed Virgil’s cheek, before slipping past him, opening the cupboard and pulling out plates and cups. 

“can I help?” Patton asked, Virgil’s soft gaze turning to him. 

“You can if you want to, baby, but you do not have to, and you will not get in trouble if you don’t.” He bit his lip, thinking. 

“I want to.” He said after a rather serious consideration, Virgil internally melting at the scrunched concentration on his face. 

“Alright. The silverware is in that drawer, there. You wanna bring those over to the table?” Patton nodded, sliding open the drawer and grabbing three of each utensil, walking carefully over to the table and placing one of each at each spot, perfectly even on either side of each plate, Roman ruffling his hair as he thanked him for helping. After Roman turned to him with a giant grin, subtly pointing at Patton and mouthing ‘adorable!’. Virgil snorted but didn’t disagree, as he pulled the last of the chicken out of the pan and onto the plate, Roman taking it, as he grabbed the mashed potatoes. 

Roman served Patton first, scooping some of the potatoes onto his plate, along with more chicken than he thought the kid could eat in one go, but he hoped that would help Patton feel comfortable with eating an actual portion amount. If it still looked like his plate was full when he was done, he wouldn’t feel as wrong or guilty or scared about eating what was on his plate. Little tricks, he’d picked up from his time with Virgil. He wished he didn’t need to know them at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story Time!

It was pretty quiet, as everyone ate. Patton kept glancing at them, between bites, as if afraid that at any moment this meal would be ripped away from him and he’d be punished for taking any of it. Virgil kept up a stream of soft, mindless conversation, being careful to actively ignore Patton, and Roman did his best to follow suit, until Patton pushed his plate away, drinking the last of his milk. He had eaten a decent amount, still not what Roman thought was enough, for a kid of his age, but it was the first real meal they’d gotten into him, the donuts hardly counted, besides for breaking the ice with him, and it was good progress. As he became more confident that he wouldn’t get in trouble, he’d start eating more. The kid needed it, he was so skinny, so small, even for his age. 

“All done, baby?” Virgil asked, and Patton nodded. That was another thing, as excitable and bubbly as Patton seemed, when he let himself go, he was so quiet, mostly answering their questions with nods or one word answers, only really opening up when he was too afraid and upset or too excited to hold himself back. 

“Ok. You two go do something fun, I’ll clean up. It’s only fair, you cooked, Virg.” He shut down the protest already growing on Virgil’s lips, smiling as he huffed, but agreed. 

“Alright, fine. What do you wanna do, Pat?” Virgil asked, and Patton bi his lip, looking down at his lap. 

“dunno.” He answered, shoulders slightly tensed. 

“Would it be easier if I gave you some options?” Patton nodded, still not looking up. 

“Alright, how about, reading, coloring, or watching cartoons?” Patton seemed to shrink smaller, red staining his cheeks, and he pulled his legs up onto the chair, to his chest. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Roman asked softly. 

“I can’t read. Don’t know how. Th-they tried to teach me but I was too s-stupid.” 

“Oh, baby. You’re plenty smart. Here, I’ll read to you, ok? You just follow along as best you can. That’s the best way to learn anyway, and it’s something you’ll pick up on no problem, once we start. You’re very smart, Patton. The people who tried to teach you just didn’t care enough to see it.” Virgil offered his arms, and Patton frowned, but accepted, letting Virgil scoop him up and carry him to the living room. Virgil showed him the bookshelf, and read him the titles of the ones he pointed at, until he settled on one titled Bunnicula, after Virgil assured him it wasn’t scary and had a very happy ending. 

Roman listened as he washed up, smiling at Patton’s little gasps and coos at the cuteness of the rabbit, the silliness of the dog, the misled concern of the cat. He seemed to really love animals, in general, when they’d been out and about earlier, he’d pointed out every dog they passed while driving. Maybe he’d look into animal therapy, for him, it was certainly something that couldn’t hurt. 

He finished up and entered the living room, Patton’s eyes flicking to him for a moment, wary at the movement, but he relaxed again as he registered the movement as Roman, Virgil’s voice steadying him, as he turned his attention back to the book, following along Virgil’s finger, trailing the words he was reading. 

He pulled out his tablet, opening back up the cover he’d been working on, tapping his stylus to his chin as he thought for a few moments, looking over what he had, picturing where he wanted it to go, before starting back up. 

Virgil noticed Patton fidgeting. He wasn’t really listening anymore, he could tell, but he kept reading anyway, letting Patton decide when or if he wanted to say anything. There was no reason to push him. Roman was so absorbed in drawing, he hadn’t noticed anything amiss, then again, he was usually a clueless idiot. 

“Are you really going to adopt me?” Patton finally blurted, instantly clapping his hands over his mouth. Roman jolted, almost dropping his tablet, fumbling to set it aside, and Virgil shut the book, setting it aside, looking down at Patton, who’s slid off his lap, knees pulled to his chest on the chair, though he hasn’t shrugged off the arm Virgil still had around his shoulders.

“Because you’re getting me all this stuff, and being so nice, and keep saying you want me and love and aren’t sending me back and earlier you said you’d been saving up because you’ve been planning to adopt but that doesn’t mean me, and I like it here, I really do, but that doesn’t mean you need to adopt me I can just stay youdontneedtodoanythingiwasjustwonderingandthoughtidaskimsorry.” He finished, curling up a bit tighter, breathless. 

“Patton, honey. Can you look at me?” Roman asked, moving so he was kneeling in front of the chair, Patton’s eyes darting to his for a moment. “We were planning on waiting a while before speaking about it with you, give you time to settle in and get used to us, and the house, and everything.” Roman started. 

“Oh.” Patton said softly, looking away again. 

“Yes, Patton. What Roman is trying to say is yes. We would very much love to adopt you, if that Is what you want, too.” Virgil finished, tilting Patton’s chin up so he could see his sincerity, could feel it. 

“R-really?” He asked. 

“Yes, little prince. Really.” Roman murmured, smiling gently at Patton’s surprise, scooping the kid up, before sitting down next to Virgil on the chair, squishing the two of them slightly, Patton kneeling atop their laps, looking between the two of them. 

“You’re ours, Pat. You’ve been ours since the moment we met you. I wouldn’t give you up for the world, baby. Do you want us to adopt you?” He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to get past the awe making his throat tight, before giving up and nodding. 

“Y-yes. Yes!” He cried, instantly, and then Virgil and Roman’s arms were around him, both of them hugging him, their bodies enfolding him, and it didn’t feel cramped or trapped or suffocating, it felt warm and cozy and safe, it felt like… like home.

They didn’t move from that spot for a very long time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glasses and Therapy.   
> Need i say more?

He squinted, tilting his head, biting his lip, trying to concentrate. 

He was trying to read. It was a simple book, one Virgil had already read him, and he knew the words already, what each page should say based on the pictures. But he couldn’t make it out. He didn’t understand, how Virgil and Roman could look at these little scribbles and understand them. 

Roman was drawing on the couch, humming as he tapped away at his screen. Virgil was sitting quietly in the arm chair, doing a dot to dot book. He’d taken one look at it, and felt dizzy, from how many tiny numbers there were all cramped together. Virgil had said the one he was working on had five thousand dots. He couldn’t even count that high. 

With a dramatic sigh, he closed the book and slid down further in his seat, frowning, fiddling with the cat paws of his hoodie. 

“Everything ok, Pat?” Roman asked, and he huffed. 

“How do you read?” Roman raised a brow, looking up from his tablet. “It’s all… squiggly and weird and I can’t even tell what the pictures are s’posed to be, unless it’s this close to my face.” He demonstrated, holding the book until it came into focus, a mere few inches from his face. “And your books have such tiny words. And tiny numbers.” He added, setting aside the book once again, looking up in time to see the quick exchange of glances between the two of them. 

He shrunk back slightly, as both of their attentions turned to him, the weight of their scrutiny heavy on his shoulders. 

“Patton, can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” Virgil asked. He squinted, trying to make it out. 

“Three? Or… or four?” He answered uncertainly, unsure what kind of test this was, as they exchanged another glance. He could feel the urge to rock starting to grow, but managed to suppress it, instead wrapping his arms tight around his middle, hoping that would quell the shivering starting. He knew they wouldn’t hurt him. He knew, but his body and his heart still didn’t agree. 

“I was holding up two. Patton, are a lot of things… blurry?” Patton blinked, tilting his head. 

“Uh huh. Most things are, unless I’m close to them. Why? Is that… is that bad?” He asked, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

“No, no it isn’t, honey, it’s fine. It’s just… If things are really that blurry all the time, you probably need glasses.” He shrunk back further, shaking his head. 

“n-no! No, I’ll just do b-better, I don’t n-need…” Glasses. Glasses were expensive. Glasses were breakable. Glasses would make him stick out, make him easier to pick out, pick on. They could be taken away, as a punishment, they had been, he’d had them, once. It had been the most amazing week of his life, being able to see everything in the world. 

Then they’d been snatched off his face and stomped underfoot and shattered and another little part of him had broken inside, when no one even cared, and his fosters said he should have been more careful. So the world was blurry, and he got used to it. 

“Oh, baby. Glasses aren’t a punishment. You haven’t done anything wrong, to need glasses. Roman has them, you know that, right?” Virgil asked, crouching before his chair. 

“B-but not all the t-time! He doesn’t wear them o-out, and it’ll b-be a waste, they’ll j-just get broken, and then you’ll be m-mad, and I’ll h-have to wear them all the time, and, and-“ He broke off, gasping for air. 

“Wait, you know you need glasses?” He slapped a hand over his mouth, panic flaring through him because he’s such an idiot, why does he ever talk at all? It feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, he’s shaking, shaking so hard, he doesn’t think the weighted blanket would be able to quell his panic right now. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, I d-didn’t mean it, I’m sorry!” 

“Shhh, honey. You aren’t in trouble, Patton. No one’s angry, no one’s in trouble.” He winced as a hand brushed against his cheek, tilting his chin up, to meet Roman’s auburn eyes. “you’re safe, honey. You’re safe. We weren’t angry, we were just surprised you didn’t mention anything sooner, if you already knew you needed them.” Roman’s hand moved to his shoulder, rubbing small circles against his back. 

“you don’t have to tell us what happened, if you don’t want to. We’ll set up an appointment, ok? Then you’ll at least have them, even if you don’t feel comfortable wearing them all the time. We won’t make you, and we won’t take them away as punishment, and we won’t be mad if they get broken. I can’t even count how many pairs of glasses Roman has gone through. Found a pair in the back of the freezer once, they’d been in there for months. He still swears a ghost must have stolen them and hidden them there.” He laughed slightly at that, and at Roman’s offended noise, though it died into sniffles quickly. 

“I’m s-sorry. I kn-know you w-w-won’t hurt me, I know you’re g-good. I know! I just can’t s-stop being sc-scared…” 

“That’s ok, baby. It’s ok. You remember what I told you in the mall?” He nodded, uncurling slightly to look up at Virgil. 

“That it’s ok to be scared o-of you.” He calmed a bit more at Virgil’s soft smile. 

“That’s right, Pat.” He bit his lip, looking between the two of them, before looking down. 

“I’m tired of being scared all the time. I know there’s nothing to be scared of. I know you aren’t going to h-hurt me. I know! But I c-can’t stop being sc-scared.” 

“Oh, honey. Can I..?” He nodded, letting Roman scoop him into his lap, sitting back down in the chair. 

“how do I stop being scared?” he mumbled into Roman’s shirt, feeling him gently holding him. 

“It’s hard. I know it’s hard. Every adult up to this point has either let you down or hurt you in some way. You have no reason to trust any adult. And experience has shown you that just because someone is nice at first doesn’t mean they’ll stay that way. It just… gets easier, over time. It gets easier to believe that we mean what we say, the more times we follow through on promises. It becomes easier to believe we won’t hurt you, every time an accident happens and we don’t. It’s just… time. And…” He could tell Virgil was exchanging a look with Roman, hedging if he should say something or not. 

“And?” He asked, peeking out from Roman’s arms. Virgil sighed, shoving a hand through his hair, looking at him gently. 

“Therapy. I see a therapist, we’ve mentioned him, I’m sure. Dr. Picani. I’ve been seeing him for years now, since…” He trailed off, with another huff. “Well, for a long time, is the point. He’s a psychiatrist, too, so he helped get me on my medication, which helps a lot.” He bit his lip, eyes creased as he looked at Virgil. 

“what… what does he do? Exactly?” Virgil smiled at the question, forcing Roman to move over so he could slip in beside him, meeting his eyes seriously. 

“He helps me deal with my emotions or problems. It’s talking, mostly, talking about how my week has gone, if anything’s happened, if anything’s bothering me. He helps me recognize unhealthy thinking or when I’m holding myself to impossible standards, or when my anxiety is starting to drag me down into a spiral. He helps me process older issues, too, things that… happened, when I was younger. He’s taught me a lot, helped me figure out a lot about myself.” 

“How… how to not be scared?” Virgil softened further, reaching out brushing back his hair. 

“More like… how to recognize when I’m scared for a good reason, and when I’m scared because of stuff going on in my head. And then he helped me learn how to handle the fear in my head. It doesn’t stop, not completely, but it’s easier to ignore, to recognize and dismiss. Does… does therapy sound like something you’d be interested in, baby?” Virgil stroked his cheek and he shivered, unsure why such a gentle touch brought tears to the corners of his eyes. 

“M-maybe.” 

“Sometimes it’s good to talk to someone, about everything going on up in there. And a therapist has the tools to help you understand why you know one thing, but still feel another. And anything said in therapy, is confidential. It means they are not allowed to tell anyone else what you talked about. Not even with your permission. So if you felt uncomfortable talking to us about something that was bothering you, you could talk to them instead, and we would never know.” Roman added, his confusion growing. 

“But… you wouldn’t know what I said.” Roman blinked, looking slightly like a confused cat. 

“Right… that’s… part of the point. Is that… a problem?” Roman asked, and he shook his head, then nodded, then shook his head. 

“Patton?” Virgil asked, and he fiddled with his cat paws again. 

“why? Why would you let me… you wouldn’t know… I could say anything, and… what if you didn’t l-like what I said?” 

“It doesn’t matter, if we like what you say or not, Patton. That’s not what this is about. There’s no right or wrong way to feel. There’s just whatever you are feeling, and whatever that is, is ok. It’s privacy. You have the right to privacy, Patton. We don’t need to, nor should we, know every move you make or every word you say, or what you say about us. You’re allowed to choose what you share with us, and we will respect that. Roman doesn’t know what I talk about, during my sessions, and he doesn’t ask, unless I bring it up first.” 

“I assume it’s mostly griping about me, otherwise I don’t know how you’ve put up with me for this long.” Roman teased, and Virgil snorted, leaning over and kissing his cheek. 

“Shut up, Princey. We’re trying to parent our child.” Virgil replied, a light blush on his cheeks. 

“ok.” He said, almost whispered, and both their attentions immediately shifted back to him. 

“Ok to which part, little prince?” Roman asked gently. 

“I think I’d… I’d like to try. Th-therapy. If that’s ok. If it really helps.” 

“Ok. That’s wonderful, Pat, that’s really great. I’ll set up an appointment for that, as well. I think you’ll really like Picani. He loves cartoons and Disney and all things bright. He’s who I see, so it’ll be a good starting point for you, to get an idea of what therapy is, and what it’s like. The first session is just to meet each other and get to know each other a little bit, ok? So if you like him, you can keep seeing him, otherwise he’ll have plenty of suggestions for other therapists we can try, until we find the right fit. Is that ok?” Virgil asked, and he nodded, then tilted his head. 

“He’s who you… talk to?” 

“Uh huh. But he won’t tell me anything you say. And he won’t tell you anything I say. I promise. You can see someone else if you want, if that makes you more comfortable.” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. 

“It’s ok. I’ll meet him, at least. What… what cartoons does he watch?” He asked, curious despite himself. Virgil’s eyes glimmered with mischief as he leaned in close. 

“All of them.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy! 
> 
> Therapy for everyone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time ever writing Emile, so hopefully i did ok.

“So. How is everything going?” Virgil sighed, shoulders slumped as he picked at his nails, jumping as Picani tossed him a fidget cube, looking up to see the man raising a brow at him, eyes crinkled with kindness. 

“It’s… good.” Picani made a hmm sound, leaning back in his chair, looking at him with that suspicious… look, he always had, when he didn’t quite believe him, but was waiting for him to say something first. The man had endless patience, and it was often both incredibly helpful and completely infuriating. 

“It’s… hard. But it’s good. He’s getting used to us. More comfortable with us.” Picani nodded. 

“You set up a session for him, with me.” Virgil smiled slightly, looking down at the cube. 

“Yeah. We were planning to talk to him about therapy, eventually, but he kinda brought it up. He seems to always be catching us off guard, with those kinds of questions. I think he nearly induced a heart attack in Roman when he asked if we were going to adopt him.” 

“Children are very perceptive about small shifts in adult’s attitudes, especially a child who has been through what he has. What you have. So. How is having Patton affecting you?” 

“It’s not! It’s fine. It’s… I don’t know.” He huffed, not even needing to look up to sense Picani’s small smile at his self correction. “It brings back memories. Not… pleasant ones, obviously. He’s so much like me, in his manerisms, in his defenses, in his reactions. It helps, that I know how it feels. Not that I know exactly how he’s feeling, of course, but I know how I felt, feel, and I can tell when he’s getting overwhelmed or needs extra reassurance or needs touch or to not be touched. And Roman’s… God, Roman’s so good with him. He’s so good at making him laugh, at getting him out of his own head, convincing him to draw or play or ask for what he needs.” 

“So it’s fair to say it’s challenging, but rewarding.” He nodded, a small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah. It’s… we wanted a kid for so long, you know? And we were both so worried, that something would go wrong, or we would get rejected for some reason or another, or we wouldn’t be a good fit for the foster that got placed with us. I know that happens, and sometimes placements just don’t work out, no matter how hard you try as a parent, sometimes the fit just isn’t right, but I think it would have broken me, having to give a kid up, or have one taken away. And you know we wanted someone who had been in difficult homes, who hadn’t had the chance to just be a kid, one who had been shuffled around and misplaced, and we knew the behavioral challenges and problematic attitudes that could come along with those experiences, but Patton’s just…  
He’s so sweet.  
He’s such a good, sweet, kind, little boy. He’s scared, and anxious, and withdrawn, even though I know he’s just bursting with energy underneath, and the little glances of that bubbly kid hiding deep down that we get just melt me, because I know how much trust it takes, to let that slip through. He’s not angry, or mean, or even hurt, in the traditional sense, by what he’s gone through. It didn’t make him hard and calloused and cold.  
He’s just… he’s amazing. He’s so strong, and resilient and has such a good heart.” He’d uncurled as he’d spoken about Patton, relaxing into the plush chair, hands sitting in his lap, fidget cube forgotten. Emile smiled at his slightly starry eyed expression. 

“You filed papers, already. For an official adoption. It’s only been a week. Do you think you could be moving a little to fast?” 

“No. Absolutely not.” The vehemence in Virgil’s voice made him smile even more, inwardly. It was rare for Virgil to be so assertive, so sure of himself. He hadn’t expected any other answer, but it was good to make Virgil say things out loud. “Roman adores him. I love him, I loved him the moment I saw him, it just feels so right, so… so perfect. And he wants this, just as much as we do, he wants this. Wants to be ours. That’s… it’s amazing, y’know? He’s so sure, that we’ll take care of him, that we won’t hurt him, that… that he can trust us. Even when he’s scared, afraid of being hurt because of something or other, he knows, mentally, that he can trust us. It took me so much longer, to get that far. I’m just… so proud of him. I’m so lucky, that I met him. He’s my kid, Emile. He’s going to be my son.” Virgil said, voice choked up as he sniffled, grabbing a tissue from the small table beside the chair, though the smile on his face was radiant, brighter than Emile had seen it in a long time, not since he’d married Roman. 

“Well. Conradulations, Virgil. I look forwards to meeting him. Now, I just have one more question, to end this session on. Have you told him, about your own history with they system?” Virgil’s face fell, and he was sorry to see that smile go, but it was an important question. 

“Not exactly. Not the details. I told him I was in it, shuffled around. That I got badly hurt, and had to fight back to defend myself, and almost died. He was already having a breakdown, when it came up, I didn’t want to go into it.” There was that eyebrow raise again. He hated that eyebrow. “What?” 

“Are you sure you didn’t go into it because you didn’t want to scare him further, or because you are still afraid to face that night?” Emile asked gently, and Virgil flinched. “You need to work through it eventually, Virgil.” 

“I have. You know exactly what happened, and what I had to do. You were the one who was there when they took my statement.” He snapped defensively. 

“I was. I know the facts, of the event. But I think we both know you’ve never shared anything more than a clinical, detached retelling of incident. Repression isn’t a permanent solution, Virgil. Eventually it will boil over into your personal life, especially if you are around triggering factors.”

“Patton isn’t a trigger. He’s a child.” Virgil growled, and Emile leaned forwards, meeting his eyes evenly. 

“He is a child. That does not exclude him from acting as a trigger. Given your similar histories, it is entirely possible that something he will say will resonate deeply with you and unlock that floodgate you have shoved everything relating to that night behind. I am not implying Patton is in any way at fault, nor am I saying he is unhealthy for you. Quite the opposite, I do believe his presence in your life is very beneficial, and is having an overwhelmingly positive effect on your psyche.  
I am merely stating that you need an outlet, be that speaking to me, writing, drawing, something, that can relieve the pressure on your mind. And hopefully, that will eventually give you the strength and confidence to truly trust me with everything that happened that night.” With that Emile stood, offering a hand to Virgil, to help him up. 

“I love when we end on a positive note.” Virgil grumbled, making him huff as he opened the door for him, walking him to the small lobby. 

“It’s all part of the process, Virgil.” 

“I know, baby steps, and all that.” He hesitated for a moment, letting out a deep breath that blew his bangs. “I’ll think about it. Doing… doing something. I’ll try.” Emile smiled gently, squeezing his shoulder. 

“That’s all I’m asking, Virgil.” He murmured back, as they reached the lobby, pausing a moment to take in Roman, sitting on the floor next to a small child, who’s tongue was poking out of his mouth as he drew, Roman helping give him instructions and advice on how best to capture details of perspective. He could tell despite the boy’s focus on his drawing, he was also listening intently to Roman, nodding occasionally at his words, as he colored in the sketch. 

“There! It’s your book cover, see?” Patton explained, holding up the piece of paper. It was rather good, for a kid as young as Patton, he could tell with some practice and encouragement he would be quite the artist. 

“It’s wonderful, little prince. It shall occupy a place of honor upon the fridge when we return home!” Patton looked up at Roman with wide, bright eyes. 

“Really? It’s… it’s not that good.” 

“It’s amazing, Pat. It looks beautiful.” Virgil answered, and Emile didn’t miss the way Patton’s face lit up when he registered Virgil standing there, though he ducked his head in embarrassment. 

“If you say so.” He mumbled back. 

“We do, Patty cake.” Roman answered, getting a squeak out of Patton as he scooped him up into his arms, booping his nose and ruffling his hair. “Now, are you ready to meet Mr. Dr. Picani?” Emile laughed, shaking his head. 

“Just Emile is perfectly fine. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Patton.” He replied, the small boy peering at him curiously from Roman’s arms, just a bit of wariness in his expression, before his eyes shifted, focusing instead on his lanyard, biting his lip. 

“Do you like my pins?” He asked, Patton’s eyes immediately darting away, though he did nod slowly. “I like them too. I collect them, you see. People sell them by the hundreds online, so I always have plenty, not to mention duplicates. Would you like to pick one out? I have a large collection in my office.” He tempted, noticing how Patton reacted. He very much wanted to, but was also clearly afraid. 

“it’s alright, baby. You want one of us to come with you, this time?” Patton hesitated, then wiggled a bit, signaling to Roman he wanted down, who obliged. 

“No. I can… I can do it. You’ll be here?” Patton asked, voice cracking just a bit, and instantly, Virgil was crouching before him. 

“We’ll be waiting right here for you, baby. We aren’t going anywhere, ok? Emile is really nice, and he’ll take very good care of you. And if you decide you don’t like it and want to be done, that’s ok too. You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to, it’s always your choice. You just let Emile know you’re done, and he’ll bring right back out.  
That’s very important to remember, ok? All of this is your choice and you are in control of it. Ok?” Virgil said softly but seriously, meeting Patton’s eyes. After a moment, Patton let out a soft breath. 

“Ok.” He replied, just as serious. Virgil smiled, standing up. 

“It’s alright, little prince. Go on.” Roman murmured, giving him a soft push forwards. Emile smiled gently, offering his hand. Patton hesitated, but slipped his into it after a moment, letting him guide them both down the hall back to his office. Despite his nervousness, he seemed resolute in his choice. 

Based on his very short observations, he could already tell why Virgil and Roman loved Patton so much. He really was a perfect fit for them, and he was glad Patton had agreed to meet him. He could tell there was far too much weighing down this child. 

“So, I hear you like Disney. Do you have a favorite movie? Mine is the Aristocats.” He offered, noting the cat sweater Patton had on, making idle conversation and observing how he responded to his questions, gradually lightening up as he spoke more and more about his love of cats. 

Until they reached his office door, and his subdued demeanor took back over, tensing up as he settled into the chair, hugging the stuffed animal rabbit Emile handed to him tight to his chest. He hummed as he skimmed over the bookshelf, pulling out the large, clunky binder, setting it on the table between them. 

“Here we go. The binder of pins.” He watched Patton’s eyes widen as he let out a soft ‘oh’, hand hovering over the cover, eyes darting to him then away. 

“Go ahead. There’s some aristocats ones in there somewhere. Near the middle, I think. You can pick any one you like. 

“Really?” He asked breathlessly. 

“Really. If you decide to come back after today, we can make it a tradition. That would be nice, don’t you think? Maybe you can pick a pin that shows how you’ve been feeling this week. That would be a nice starting point. And sometimes it’s hard, to find the right words to express how you’re feeling. This way, I would have an idea of where to begin each session. And soon you’d have a little collection all your own. Does that sound alright?” Patton’s eyes were wide as he nodded, but there was a small smile on his lips as he flipped through the binder, finally settling on one of Toulouse, all puffed up when he’d tried to impersonate an alley cat. Not a surprising choice, given what he already knew. 

“Is this one… ok?” He asked hesitantly. 

“Of course. I’ll put this away, then we can begin.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy for the baby!

“So. For this session, I’d just like to get to know you a little bit. I’m going to ask you some questions, about yourself. If you don’t want to share something, that’s alright, just say skip and we’ll move on to the next one. Sound good?” Patton nodded, once again pulling his knees to his chest in the chair, the stuffed animal clutched in his hands, his face half buried in it. 

“What’s your favorite color?” He blinked. He hadn’t expected that to be the first question. 

“Blue.” He answered warily, unsure if this was a test, or what the right answer was, but Emile only nodded, writing a note on his pad of paper. 

“I’m a fan of pink.” Patton’s nose scrunched in confusion. 

“Pink is a girl color. Boys aren’t allowed to like pink.” Well, that got Emile’s attention. 

“Why not?” He asked, and Patton seemed to pull back, curling a bit tighter. 

“It isn’t right. It means I’m a sissie and bad and I’m not allowed to like pink or d-dolls or sk-skirts. It’s bad and unnatural and means I’m bad and unnatural.” The lines were well rehearsed, likely drilled into his head through reprehensible means. Emile hummed. 

“Do you think Roman is bad?” Patton’s eyes widened and he shot upright, shaking his head vehemently. 

“No! He’s amazing! He’s not bad at all!” He allowed himself a small smile at the outburst. Patton was willing to raise his voice, to get defensive and angry if someone insulted Roman, and likely Virgil, though he wouldn’t defend himself in the same way. 

“Did you know that Roman wears skirts and dresses sometimes? And both Roman and Virgil like using makeup. Virgil is also excellent at painting nails. Do you think that makes them bad?” Hesitantly, Patton shook his head. “So why would it make you bad?” Patton paused, expression adorably bewildered. 

“because… because I am! I just… am.” Emile hmmed again, but decided to move on for now, giving Patton time to think over it himself.

“What’s your favorite animal?” 

“Cats.” 

“That’s what I would have guessed. I like cats too. I’ll show you a picture of Missy later, she’s a maine coon. They’re the largest cat breed. Well, household cat breed. She’s not as big as a tiger, or anything.” That got a small giggle from Patton, the kid relaxing slightly once again. 

“What do you like to do, in your free time?” Patton bit his lip, clearly thinking, fiddling with the ears of the rabbit. 

“I… I like to draw. I don’t think I’m very good, but Roman’s helping me. They got me some art supplies, and Roman let me use his fancy colored pencils. And some how to draw books, for fantasy creatures. So I can make dragons like Roman.” Emile nodded, noting how dedicated he seemed to Roman, especially. 

“Is there anything else?” Patton nodded, a bit shyly. 

“I can’t read. But… but I like it when Virgil reads for me. I feel bad asking, though. I don’t want to bother him when he’s doing something else. He’s helping me learn. Says it’ll be easier once I have my glasses.”

“I expect it will be. Without my glasses I can barely see my own hands in front of my face clearly.   
What kinds of stories do you like?” Patton looked away, withdrawing slightly once more. Odd, he hadn’t expected that question to hit a nerve. 

“Happy ones. Where… where everyone gets to be happy and safe and no one gets hurt and the bad guys are banished far away.”

“Do you feel safe, staying with Roman and Virgil, Patton?” he asked gently. 

“S-sometimes. Most of the time. But sometimes I do something wrong or something bad or they move and I think…I think… I…” 

“Ok. It’s ok, Patton. Can you look at me, buddy?” He asked, moving so he was at Patton's height. “let’s take a couple deep breaths. Can you do that with me? In… and out.” He repeated the pattern a couple times, until Patton seemed calmer once more, handing him the tissue box from the table. 

“Sorry.” He shook his head.

“it is more than alright, Patton. What we talk about isn’t always easy, and it’s often going to be emotional. That is what this is for. To talk about what you are feeling, and why, and then figure out the best way to process and handle them in a positive way. How you feel is never wrong, or bad, it’s just how you feel. And I can tell you have a lot of feelings, in there, all fighting with each other, and it’s confusing, isn’t it?” slowly, Patton nodded. “I want to help organize them, ok? Sort them out and help you with whatever you’d like help with. So. I’m finished with my getting to know you questions, and we can end here, for today, if you like.  
Otherwise, is there anything you would like to talk about?” He asked, watching Patton bite his lip, thinking. 

“I’m scared. I’m scared a lot. Of… of a lot of things. That shouldn’t really be scary. But they are. Because I never know what is ok and what isn’t. What I’ll get in trouble for and what I won’t. And it changed. All the time, what would get me in trouble and what wouldn’t changed, and I never know if something is going to be ok, just because it was ok before and I… I know that even when I do something wrong, they won’t hurt me, for it. I know! But I still… I still panic.” Patton finished, curling up around the stuffed animal again, though he didn’t seem to be panicking again. He let out a long breath, leaning back in his chair. 

“It sounds like,” He began, talking lowly to make sure he caught Patton’s full attention, “it sounds like you have been hurt very badly in the past. And while your heart knows you are safe now, your body and mind is having a hard time catching up, and that’s frustrating you. It’s perfectly normal, to be scared, Patton. Even when you know logically there’s nothing to be scared of. And in your case, in every previous experience, the things that make you scared have led to you being hurt. You need to give yourself time, to adjust to your new environment.” 

“What if they get tired of me?” Patton blurted out. “They’re nice and patient and h-help but I get scared all the time, and they’ll get tired of me and send me back and I don’t wanna go, n-not this time!” He leaned forwards, resting a hand on Patton’s leg to help ground him, meeting his eyes evenly. 

“They won’t. They love you, Patton. You know that they’re adopting you?” 

“Y-yeah. But they could change their m-minds.” He sniffled. 

“They won’t. Do you know how I know that?” Patton shook his head, and he smiled kindly. “I can tell you this because Virgil gave me permission. He spent most of his session talking about you, Patton. About how wonderful and amazing you are, and how best he can help you be more confident, more comfortable being yourself.” 

“Really?” He asked, eyes wide and watery. 

“Really. I pinky promise.” Emile said, holding out his pinky. Patton giggled slightly, but completed the pinky promise, which was a good sign. 

“Are you feeling a little better, now that we’ve talked a bit?” After a moment of thought, Patton nodded. 

“a little.” Emile nodded. 

“That’s good. That’s what this is for. To help you feel better, little by little.” Patton bit his lip again, thinking something. 

“I can… I can come back? And talk some more?” Emile smiled. 

“Of course. I have this time slot empty, so if you wanted, we could do this weekly, right after Virgil’s appointment, just like today.”

“ok. I think… I’d like that.” He mumbled softly. 

“Alright. Shall we go find Virgil and Roman? You can show them your pin. I’m sure Roman will know it right away, but we can make Virgil guess.” He giggled slightly again, giving the stuffed animal rabbit a small kiss on its head before slipping out of the chair, setting it down on top of it, following Emile out the door and back to the lobby.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton gets glasses, and a wild Remus and Janus appear!

“Alright. What do you think of these ones?” He frowned, looking at Roman holding up another pair of lenses. They were rectangular and thick framed, with green rims. He didn’t like them. But Roman had picked them out, so he should. “Right, that’s a no, then.” Roman said, putting them back. He tilted his head. 

“I didn’t say anything.” He protested. 

“Exactly. If you liked them you would have said so, instead of trying to figure out whether or not you’d be allowed to not like them.” Virgil answered, from farther down the rack. “It’s pretty easy to tell, when you’re getting worried. Here, what about these?” Virgil asked, pulling down frames higher up than he could reach, and farther down the expensive side than he liked. 

He frowned, shaking his head. 

“You can’t even see them yet.” Roman said, and he felt his shoulders rise up a little. 

“hey. It’s ok. I wouldn’t have picked them out, if we weren’t able to afford them.” Virgil murmured, and he took a deep breath in and out, to calm himself. “I can put them back, if it makes you too unconfortable.” 

“I… can I see?” He asked, holding out his hands. Virgil smiled kindly, handing over the frames. They were thin wire around the lenses, and thicker along the arms, the metal a light shade of blue that shimmered slightly in the light, the lenses round circles. They were perfect. 

“You wanna try them on, Pat?” Roman asked softly, and nodded, slipping them onto his face and looking into the full length mirror. It was still blurry, they didn’t have his lenses in them, yet, but he leaned close. He was… surprised, at his reflection. 

He hadn’t looked at himself, lately, usually didn’t, but he looked… different, now. He could tell he wasn’t as skinny as he had been, he might be a little taller, too. The bruise on his face had completely healed, though his chest and back weren’t yet, still a dull green color. But his eyes were different. They seemed… brighter, there were crinkles around his eyes, his mouth. From smiling, he realized. He was smiling. He… he was happy. 

He was happy because during his eye doctor appointment, Virgil had told the doctor he was sensitive and worried, so the doctor had explained every step of everything before they did it, and made sure he was ok with everything. And Roman had held his hand the entire time, letting him squeeze as hard as he wanted, especially when the air was puffed at his eyes, and he kept jumping away before it happened, and no one got mad. And Virgil had reassured him after every ‘one or two’ choice that there was no wrong or right answer, it wasn’t a test he could fail, it was just to make sure his lenses would be the right strength. 

He was happy because Roman was teaching him how to draw, and he had his own sketchbook and sparkly gel pens and colored pencils, that he could use whenever he wanted. He was happy because Roman had spent a full day with him, showing him how to make sugar cookies, then how to make frosting, then letting him decorate them with all the sprinkles and edible decorations in the house, making a complete mess of the kitchen. They had almost as much fun cleaning up as they had making the mess. 

He was happy because Virgil had grinned when he’d shyly asked if he’d paint his nails, after his appointment with Emile, and had done amazing swirling space and stars and galaxies on them, with little pieces of glitter. Because he always made good, warm food, and let him keep snacks up in his room so he wouldn’t be afraid he’d be starved, because he could always tell when he needed space, and when he needed support. 

He was happy because they’d shown him the papers. The forms, all filled out, every line and box and question. Everything signed and dotted, then sealed in an envelope while he watched. They drove to the post station and let him hold it, slide it into the slot so he could be positively sure they’d sent it, and weren’t just lying or tricking him, and they hadn’t been upset that he’d been worried about them doing something like that, either. 

He burst into tears. 

“Oh, baby.” Virgil murmured, crouching, resting his hands on Patton’s shoulders, squeezing gently. 

“Happy… I’m happy… I… I don’t know when the last time I was h-happy was!” He sobbed, though he was smiling, laughing, as he lunged into Virgil’s arms, the man catching him with a small ‘oof’, before hugging him tight. 

“Patton…” Virgil’s voice was choked, and he could feel the emotion welling through Virgil, overflowing from him into Virgil, who squeezed him tighter, before Roman hugged him from the other side, sandwiching him between them both. 

“I’m so glad, Pat. I’m so happy, you’re happy, little prince.” Roman murmured, giving him an extra squeeze, as he giggled slightly. 

“can’t breathe.” He mumbled, smiling wider as they both instantly let go of him, and he took in some breaths of fresh air. 

“Let’s pay for these, then we can wander around a bit, if you want. We never really got decorations for your room. If you’re feeling up for it.” Roman said, giving Virgil a moment to get ahold of himself, as he turned away, wiping at his eyes. 

“ok.” Patton replied, slipping the lenses back off his face, and handing them to Roman, who handed them to Virgil, who was still pulling it together, though he was no longer crying as he walked over to the counter, where the very nice young clerk was pretending not to notice the mini family breakdown they’d just been having, though she did give him a sympathetic smile. 

“sorry, there’s… a lot going on right now.” He felt the need to explain. She waved it away and finished checking him out. By the time he was done at the counter, Roman had Patton giggling incessantly, as they each took one of his hands, walking out of the small store with him, back into the mall.

“Well, well, well, look who it is! My favorite little brother!” Roman groaned, face palming, and Patton ducked behind Virgil, peeking out at the man approaching, eyes widening as he saw him. He looked almost exactly like Roman, except for a curling moustache and a gray streak in his hair. 

“By five minutes! That barely even counts!” 

“Janus?” the man called over his shoulder. 

“Legally, it counts.” The man fist pumped the air as the other man, Janus caught up to him, the man was dressed rather formally, an old timey bowler hat on his head, leaning lightly on a cane. A burn scar covered half his face, though Patton didn’t care, instead fascinated by his eyes. One was warm brown, and the other was a mix of icy gray and brilliant blue. 

“Boom, get fucked, Roman! My lawyer says it counts!” 

“Language!” Roman scolded. “And your lawyer is biased, cause he’s also your husband! I demand you recuse yourself!” Roman accused, and Janus smirked, raising a brow. 

“Recusing is for judges, darling. I can be as biased as I want, as long as I prove that I’m right. And I’m always right.” His voice was smooth and teasing, and it made Patton pull back a little further. It wasn’t that Janus seemed mean or scary, just… intimidating. Unfortunatley, the movement caught the man’s eye, and he squeaked as he hid completely behind Virgil, heart pounding, only relaxing marginally as Virgil reached back, allowing him to take his hand.

“-am so taller than you!” Roman spluttered, he’d lost track of the conversation, but the two were apparently still arguing about who was the better or ‘more mature’ twin. 

“Like hell-“ 

“Remus. Language. We have company.” Janus interrupted, and he tightened his hold on Virgil’s hand. 

“Well, why didn’t you say something?! Is it a raccoon? Where are you hiding it? It’s down your pants, isn’t it Virgie? I thought it looked bigger than usual down there, but I figured you were just happy to see me.” Janus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Roman flushed red. Virgil just shook his head with fond exasperation. 

“Maybe because you wouldn’t stop talking. And no, it’s not a racoon. One time, you try and adopt a feral animal one time, and no one can let it go.” Virgil muttered, making Patton giggle slightly, imagining Virgil carrying a hissing and spitting raccoon into the house, Roman trying to chase it out with a broom. 

“Oh. Ohhhhh. Oooooohhhhhhh it’s the baaaaabbyyyyyyy.” Remus exhaled, eyes widening in realization. 

“Yes. And your vibrant attitude is no doubt not helping set him at ease, any.” Janus replied dryly, Remus sticking his tongue out at him and swiping his hat. 

“Good day, to you, little sir. It is a pleasure to make your aquiantance.” Remus said, doing a flourishing bow with the hat, which Janus promptly snatched back from him as he stood upright once more, placing it firmly back on his head. 

“Apologies for him. I’d like to say you caught us on a bad day, but honestly, he’s always like this.” Janus greeted. “I still cannot fathom how you convinced me to marry you. Honestly, it’s almost a travesty.” He muttered, making Remus chuckle and grab him around his waist, nuzzling against him until he pushed him back. “Your mustache tickles, you heathen. One day, I’ll shave it off when you’re sleeping.” Remus just laughed, pecking him on the cheek. 

“Would you like to come out and say hi? You don’t have to.” Virgil murmured to him, looking back at him over his shoulder. He squeezed his hand tighter and took a deep breath, but stepped out from behind Virgil, standing next to him, if slightly farther back than he was, Roman placing a settling hand on his shoulder. 

“hi.” He near whispered, feeling himself shrink, staring down at the floor, trying not to shake as he pressed close against Virgil’s side, who let go of his hand, instead slipping a protective arm around his shoulders. 

“it’s alright, Pat. You’re alright. You’re doing so good.” Roman murmured, squeezing his shoulder. 

“Hello, Patton. Roman’s told us a lot about you.” Janus murmured, voice softer now, almost melodic. 

“He h-has?” He asked, glancing up, eyes darting between the two strange adults, before locking back on the floor. 

“Oh yes. Mostly how much he adores you, with a touch of how cute you are, and a pinch of pride at how fast you’re learning.” He flushed, toeing the ground, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Yeah, you’re pretty much all he talks about. Which is saying something, cause usually all he talks about is himself!” Remus added, and he giggled. Roman smiled, noticing how Patton’s shoulders were starting to unhunch, how he was starting to relax. “Oohh, nice nails! Can I see?” Remus asked, and Patton hesitated, before extending a hand. Remus took it gently, cooing at the design. “Did Virgil do them?” He asked, and Patton nodded shyly. “He’s really good at that. He did mine, too. They’re a little chipped, now, but you can still tell what they were!” Remus moved his hand so it was sitting flat atop Patton’s, who tilted his head and looked at them consideringly. They were a deep blue, with tiny, curling tentacles reaching up from each nail. He didn’t even know how Virgil had gotten lines so skinny with nail polish. 

“They’re cool.” He said quietly, and Remus brightened, nodding. 

“Maybe we can get together sometime, and have a makeover night. Virgil can do our nails, and I can do some fun makeup, with lots of glitter and sparkles and bright colors that Jannie won’t let me wear out in public.” He pouted at Janus, getting another little laugh out of Patton, who actually looked at him, smiling tentatively. 

“I’ve never had makeup on before.” He mumbled. 

“Well, all the more reason to play with it! You don’t know what you don’t like until you try it.” He tilted his head. He supposed that was true. And both Roman and Virgil used makeup, too, and they’d done his nails and hadn’t gotten mad at him for wanting to do a girl thing, and they weren’t mad now, that Remus was asking, so he bit his lip and nodded. 

“Ok. I think… that would be fun.” He answered, getting a brilliant grin from Remus, who, despite his excitement, slowly reached out to give him time to pull away if he wanted, before ruffling his hair lightly. 

“Well, now that the playdate is settled, we should probably let them get back to shopping, dear. We were on our way out anyway. Just had to run an… errand, or two.” Janus said, that slightly dangerous edge back to his voice. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Patton. Come along, dear.” With that, Janus pulled Remus along, who shouted goodbyes and waved until they vanished around a corner. 

“You alright, little prince? I know my brother can be… a lot.” Roman asked, crouching before him. He nodded, glancing back the way they’d gone. 

“he seems nice.” He answered, slightly defensive of his newfound nail buddy. Virgil snorted. 

“He can be, when he wants to. He likes to push people’s buttons, especially Roman’s. Part of the whole twin thing they’ve got going on.” Virgil replied. 

“But… you’re friends, right? I can’t imagine having a brother and not being friends.” Roman huffed, taking his hands. 

“We are. We argue a lot, but it’s mostly just part of how we communicate. Even when it seems like we’re fighting, or angry with each other, we aren’t really, most of the time.” Patton nodded again, clearly taking in the information and processing it. 

They didn’t ask his opinion on Janus, as they went back to shopping, which he was glad for. He didn’t know what to think of him, yet, and he didn’t want to say he wasn’t sure he liked Roman’s brother’s husband.

He was a bit excited for Remus to come over, though. That seemed like it would be lots of fun, especially once Roman suggested he do their hair, and then let him pick out some berets with little flowers on them for the occasion.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *distant whistle*
> 
> Oh? What is that I hear? 
> 
> *CHOO CHOO*
> 
> Ah! Tis the Angst Train^tm Prepare to be run over!

It’s dark. It’s late, he knows it is, it’s far too late for him to still be out, and if he gets caught sneaking back in, he’s absolutely fucked. They didn’t catch him sneaking out, and hopefully they hadn’t realized he was gone, so he just needs to get back inside and he’ll be home free. Well, not free, more home trapped. 

He sneaks around to the back, being careful to skirt around the radius of the motion activated light, hyperaware of every sound he makes, every movement out of the corner of his eye making him jumpier, until he finally reaches the old, mostly dead tree, scrabbling up the lower branches until he gets to the roof, sliding open the attic window soundlessly. 

He pauses as he gets inside, eyes adjusting to the darkness, listening for any sign anyone had heard, relieved as nothing out of the ordinary makes any noise. He slips down the attic steps, wincing as the door creaks as it opens, freezing in place, heart pounding in his ears. 

Ok, it’s ok. His room is right down the hall, he just needs to get in and he’ll be safe. 

Twelve steps. Ten steps. Five steps. 

Creak. 

His foot hits the creaky floorboard, and he flinches. A light flips on down the hall, from the living room, and he cringes. He’s not allowed to be out of his room after hours. 

“Where you been, boy?” His breath catches and he shakes his head, dropping his hand from the door handle, so close, he was so close! 

“M-my room. I j-just needed the bathroom.” The shadow at the end of the hall shakes his head. 

“Get over here.” He obeys, though with every step his heart pounds, blood rushes in his ears. He can see the beer bottles, it’s always worse when he’s drunk. He doesn’t act or sound drunk, he can pass as sober even completely blitzed, but he gets angrier. Crueler. 

“Checked. You snuck out again, you little bitch.” A hard slap across his face sends him reeling, though he steadies himself against the wall he staggers against before he falls. 

“I just needed some air, I wasn’t gone-“ 

“Liar.” Another, this one a punch to his face, blood flooding his mouth, his nose almost assuredly broken. That would be a bitch to set later, but He wasn’t done, punching him in his gut, doubling him over. 

“S-sorry… I’m sorry…” He gasps out, ducking another blow, and He howls as his fist collides with the wall instead, at least bruising if not breaking a knuckle. 

“You little whore. You’re such a waste, you know that? Not worth shit, not even for the money.” He sees a flash of silver, and panics, though he isn’t fast enough to avoid it, the hunting knife snagging his baggy clothing. He yelps, stumbles back, but He’s faster, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the wall. This close, he can smell the alcohol. “No one’ll even know you’re gone, will they, you worthless little maggot?” The breath stings his face, and he gasps at the sudden pain, fire down his side.

Like a shock of electricity, jolting him, and he tries to scream, but there isn’t any air, as it comes again and again and again, until he somehow, somehow, manages to wiggle loose, dropping hard to the floor. His head pounds. He feels oddly heavy, oddly slow. It’s like the world is moving faster than his mind can process, afterimages burned into his retinas as he blinks. 

He takes a step closer. He flinches back. He’s hurt. He realizes he’s hurt, he’s bleeding, that’s what’s happening, right. He should be worried, about the man standing over him, a knife out, ready to kill him, all because he stupidly just needed to be out of the house for a night, just a night, and it was going to kill him, he was so stupid, but he wasn’t going to die here, he wasn’t, he couldn’t!

The couch cushions. 

He was an asshole, and a drug dealer, and he always kept a spare gun under the couch cushion. 

He forces his limbs to work, forces his body to move, though everything in him screams in protest, though he can hear Him laughing at his desperate efforts, but he’s so close, so close, when the foot stomps down on his ankle, and he bites back a scream, eyes watering from the effort as he stretches a hand, fumbling in the cushions, gasping as his vision blacks out, cold rushing through him, coughing violently at the sudden pressure in his chest. 

He flips over onto his back, though that makes the agony worse, pain exploding across his spine, but he doesn’t need to see to know how close the man is, to know where he is. He pulls the trigger. And pulls, and pulls, until the gun clicks, empty, shoving away from the body across the floor, into a corner, tears streaming down his eyes, he’s cold, he’s so cold, he’s shaking, his ears are ringing, he can’t hear right, he can’t see right, and he knows he’s dying, he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t…  
…  
“VIRGIL!” He jolted at the shout, at his name, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe, but despite his gasps there wasn’t any air in his lungs, there wasn’t enough air in the world, and he was shaking, violently fighting against the arms around him, mind flashing back to that night, still caught in the throes of it, phantom pain tearing against him, as he ripped at his clothing, pulling it up to reveal healed, faded scars, across his side, his torso, but there was blood, there had been so much blood, when the ambulance got there, and he’d barely been awake, been aware, when they strapped him to the board and loaded him into the ambulance, and the lights had been too bright, the sirens too loud, everything blurred and dizzying and someone had been talking, telling him to stay awake. 

He hadn’t. He hadn’t and he’d coded twice and they said they didn’t even know how he’d survived long enough to get to surgery, with his punctured lung and injured spine and several other stab wounds to his gut, hitting who knows what organs, not to mention the blood loss, he’d lost nearly half his blood by the time they’d got him out of surgery the first time. 

“Virgil. Virgil, honey, please, look at me. Look at me, darling.” His gaze jolted up, locking on warm eyes, he knew those eyes, he knew… “you’re safe. It’s ok, you’re safe, nothing’s gonna hurt you.” 

“roman.” He whispered the name, choking on his own voice, falling forwards into Roman’s arms, who gathered him close, holding him tight and rocking him. “Ro… roman. Roman.” He sobbed, finally getting a breath in and out, air flooding his lungs as he gasped and sobbed and clung to him.   
…  
It’s the pain, that finally wakes him up, blinking in the sterile white of the hospital room, and for a solid minute he’s thoroughly convinced he must have died, after all, though this seems pretty tame for hell, cause no way he was going to end up in heaven. 

“Virgil, right? Are you awake?” A soft voice asks, and he turns his head, seeing a man in a brown coat sitting on a chair against the wall, a few feet from the bed, face warm, almost kind, if he believed in kindness, anymore. 

“yeah.” He rasps out, wincing at the pain it sends radiating through his entire body, pulsing with acute hurt so badly he almost passes back out again. 

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but I’m here with child protective services. There’s a policeman outside, who would like to speak to you, if you’re able. You aren’t in trouble, alright? He just needs to know what happened. Can I let him in?” He nods, not like there was really much of a choice. 

So he’d told them, what happened. The facts. He hadn’t cried, when they told him his foster father was dead. His shots had been close range and fatal and he didn’t feel bad for a second about it. He didn’t feel anything at all, really. Not for a long time, afterwards. 

Not until he met Roman. 

Roman. Roman was holding him. He was on Roman’s lap. Roman was murmuring to him, over and over, telling him he was safe and loved and nothing was going to hurt him, nothing.   
…  
Gradually, he started to get his breathing under control, at least back to a somewhat normal level, his heart rate slowing with it, and he found himself collapsing against Roman, utterly wiped out even though he’d just woken up. Clearly, his sleep hadn’t been restful, if he was being haunted with those memories. 

“sorry. I… I’m sorry.” 

“Shhh. You have nothing to apologize for, dearest. You never have to apologize for feeling anything.” He hadn’t woken up this way in years, hadn’t woken up by screaming and thrashing and terrified out of his mind, forgetting where he was. Right back there. That night. “Easy, darling. Keep breathing.” He realized he’d stopped, and forced himself to keep going, keep counting mentally, keep breathing. 

“don’t… don’t let go. Don’t…” He clung tighter to Roman, who kissed the top of his head, pressing his lips against his hair softly. 

“I won’t. I’m here, Virg, I’m not letting go, whatever you need, Virg. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He looked up at a tentative knock at the door, so soft he could barely hear it. 

“come in, Pat.” He called softly, trying not to startle Virgil, who uncurled just a little, as Patton peeked his head in, face drawn and far too worried.

“there was yelling.” Patton mumbled, glancing between the two of them, then at the floor, clearly checking for any bruises, scared they’d been fighting, and it melted Roman’s heart further. 

“it’s ok, baby. I just had a nightmare, is all.” Virgil replied, sniffling slightly, patting the bed, and smiling kindly as Patton gingerly climbed up onto it, looking up at him with serious eyes. 

“are you ok?” Patton asked, tilting his head. Virgil swallowed hard. He didn’t want to worry Patton, he was worried enough as it was, but he couldn’t lie to him, so he simply shook his head. 

“Not… really. Not right now. But I will be.” He answered, smile tight, not meeting his eyes. 

“oh. It… wasn’t just a dream, was it?” Wow. He certainly was a perceptive little thing. 

“no. It wasn’t.” Patton nodded solemnly, eyes too serious and dark for someone so young and little, he hated that Patton clearly understood exactly what he wasn’t saying, could imagine exactly how bad it could have been.

“can I hug you?” was not the question he expected from Patton next, but he nodded, opening his arms, smiling genuinely as Patton crawled into them, between himself and Roman, hugging him tight around his middle, his little hands fisting into the fabric on his back. “it’s ok. I won’t let them hurt you.” Patton whispered, and he bit back another sob, though he couldn’t stop the silent tears from falling, as he pressed his face against Patton’s hair, hugging him back for all he was worth, Roman’s arms coming around them both. 

He couldn’t find words. He was so… overwhelmed. In a good way, overwhelmed, by the love and warmth and safety, from the kindness and sweetness of his little boy, who had so many of his own demons to fight, but still promised to fight his, too. He was so good, so wonderfully good and he loved him so much it felt like his heart was going to implode from it. 

“thank you, Pat. I love you. I love you, so much.” He murmured back after several moments, voice shaking. 

They stayed like that until Patton, and then Virgil, fell asleep in Roman’s arms. He kissed the top of their heads, smiling as they both nuzzled closer, managing to resettle everyone so they were laying down in the bed, Patton between them, still curled against Virgil’s chest, his arm resting across the both of them in a half hug, his other pillowing his head as he looked at his boys, both out cold. 

They’d have to talk about this, later. But for now, he let himself drift back off to sleep, letting the sounds of their breathing lull him into dreamland.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angst lightens, but continues.   
> How Virgil met Roman.

Roman was gone from bed, when Virgil woke up. Patton was still curled against him, though, his little face so peaceful, in sleep, missing all of the guarded wariness that too often marred his features. He brushed his hand through Patton’s curly hair, smiling as he made a small sound, nuzzling against it, as he continued carding through his hair. 

He looked up at the sound of footsteps, smiling softly as Roman opened the door, carrying a tray piled with food, scrambled eggs, muffins, toast, sausage, as well as three mugs, slightly steaming. 

“made some breakfast.” He murmured, setting the tray down on the bed, slipping atop it next to Patton. 

“Made breakfast for an army of Vikings, more like.” He grumbled back, trying to dissipate the tension he could feel in the air, keeping his eyes down, he didn’t want to meet Roman’s, didn’t want to have the conversation that this was inevitably leading towards. 

“Virgil. You need to eat something.” He huffed, but complied, grabbing a fork and stabbing some sausage, shoving it aggressively into his mouth. He was very hungry, now that he was eating, and he managed to get quite a bit down before his stomach turned, a flash of red on his hands, and he dropped the fork, it clanging against the plate, but with the next blink, it was gone. It hadn’t been there, not now, at least. 

Roman gently picked up the tray and moved it to the floor on his side of the bed, so it would be out of the way. Patton had stirred, but was still well asleep, his thumb in his mouth. 

“don’t.” Virgil said, and Roman paused, looking up at him, his shoulders hunched slightly, his hands clenched against the blankets. 

“I didn’t say anything, Virg.” 

“You were going to. You were going to tell me I need to talk about it. I need to talk to someone about it. That it’s dangerous, if I’m going to lash out like that, especially with Patton here, that I’m dangerous if I can’t control myself, that-“ He broke off at Roman taking his hands, rubbing circles over his knuckles, slowly unclenching his hands. 

“I was going to ask how you were doing, Virg. And I was going to say I’m here, if you do want or need to let some of it out, and I was going to remind you Picani has practically been begging you for years to tell him something, anything. But I was going to say it’s ok, if you still aren’t ready. That’s all I was going to say, dearest.” Roman murmured, and he let out a long breath, leaning forwards so his forehead was resting against Roman’s. 

“it’s so hard. It… it hurts. But I can’t go back there, I can’t do it again, I’ll break. I’ll break so badly you won’t be able to put me back together, this time. You barely managed the first time, I still… I don’t understand how you did it to begin with.” He could feel the tears building up, no matter how hard he tried to swallow them down, he can’t.   
…  
Roman had slipped through his barriers, somehow. He hadn’t been expecting it. Expecting him. 

It was two years after the incident. He was a sophomore in high school. He was with a good family. An actually good family, who bought him new clothes and fed him every day and packed him lunches to take to school and tried to get to know him, tried to give him what he needed, but he didn’t even know what that was. 

He wasn’t talking much. Not if he could help it. Words got caught in his throat, and it didn’t seem worth the effort to get them out. Not much was worth the effort, those days. He didn’t feel much, if anything. He responded with yesses or no’s or short two to three word answers. He went to school, he took notes, he did his homework, he got good grades. He sat in his room not moving for hours, staring up at the ceiling from his bed. He ate, he drank water, he flinched at small movements, small noises, he woke up heart racing and pulse pounding and crying, but he didn’t tell anyone. 

He was seeing Picani. He wasn’t giving the man much to go on. He was fine, he said. He was doing fine. He didn’t have friends. He didn’t need them. He was getting good grades. He assumed he’d apply for local community college. He didn’t feel. He was numb and cold and freezing inside, and that was fine. It was better. He couldn’t be hurt, if he couldn’t feel, it was better.

Until he met Roman. 

Roman, who was new, to the neighborhood, had just moved there with his family. Roman, who didn’t know to avoid the strange boy, who was always too quiet, whose dark eyes were always haunted, who jumped when someone moved too fast or too unpredictably, who was known to lash out if startled. 

Roman, who was loud and vibrant and always in motion and always yelling or shouting or performing, filled with endless bravado and noise and he was too much and too loud and everything about him set Virgil on edge, made him warry and try as he might he couldn’t seem to avoid him. 

Roman sought him out at every opportunity. He would find him at lunch, and sit with him under the tree he usually hid under, talking incessantly about anything and everything. He always paired up with him, for group activities in classes they shared. He stood up for him, when some of the other kids had cornered him, just for fun, Roman appeared to chase them off. 

And slowly, he started to warm. 

Roman started to sit closer and closer to him, at lunch. He started responding to his stories with small snorts, short snippy comments, which became longer and more frequent as Roman laughed and delighted in each and every reply, no matter how acidly biting they were. 

And when he didn’t show up to their second period class, one day, Roman was the one who found him. Roman, who had ditched class himself, because he knew that Virgil would never ditch, was too afraid, of getting in trouble, so it must be serious, something must have happened, and Roman was the only one who knew where he’d go. 

So it was Roman, who found him under their tree, his eye bruised and swelling, his knuckles scraped and bruised, shaking and rocking, desperately trying to stifle the sound, because in his mind he was somewhere else, somewhere else, and his scars ached, and he was feeling, god, he was feeling everything all over again and he was afraid, he was terrified, because he didn’t want this, he didn’t want to feel, he didn’t want to care, because caring is what got you hurt! 

Roman had pulled him close. Had murmured softly to him. Had rocked him on his lap, and hadn’t thought less of him for it, hadn’t made fun of him for it, hadn’t said anything about it at all, as he cried, and cried, and cried, the first time he’d cried at all in two years, the anguish sweeping through him tearing him in two as he sobbed because he loved Roman and he was so fucking afraid. 

Roman had kissed him, then. It had been sloppy, and salty from tears, but it had been soft and gentle and real and it had filled him up, from head to toe, it had filled him with warmth and fire and heat, melting the last of the ice he’d filled himself with, cracking past every bar and barrier and lock he’d put in place so he wouldn’t get hurt ever again. 

Roman had walked him home that day, so he wouldn’t be alone when he told his guardians what happened, because he was still worried he’d get punished, even though he was the one who’d gotten jumped, in the past it hadn’t mattered. 

When he walked in to his next appointment with Picani, he’d been smiling. 

Emile said it was the first time in the whole two years they’d been seeing each other that he had ever seen him smile. 

He started talking, after that. Opening up, just a bit, then just a bit more, until they were finally actually talking. But he never spoke about that night. No matter how much Picani prodded. And he learned quickly not to prod. Because so much as mentioning that night shut him down completely. So they danced and danced around the issue until Virgil was almost able to pretend it had never happened to begin with.   
…  
“I don’t know what to do.” He whispered, feeling Roman exhale deeply against his face. 

“Whatever you’re able. That’s all anyone of us has ever asked from you, Virg. Whatever you’re able and whatever you need, you know I’ll support you. I’ll be there.” Roman answered, caressing his cheek, then kissing him softly and so tenderly it made him ache. 

“I love you.” Roman murmured, drawing back, as Patton stirred, smiling as he let out a small noise, nose scrunching, before his eyes finally blinked open. “Good morning, little prince. Would you like some breakfast?” Roman asked, grabbing the tray from the floor, Patton’s eyes widening at the amount of food. 

“Dig in, pipsqueak, Roman already made me eat my fill. And you need to eat just as much as I do.” He ruffled Patton’s hair, who grabbed a fork and hesitantly began to eat some of the eggs, glancing a bit wistfully at the muffins, until Roman rolled his eyes fondly, and grabbed one, placing it on Patton’s hand, who quickly devoured it, before grabbing another one, eating more slowly this time. 

“finished.” He said, pushing the tray back. 

“Alright. Shall we get dressed for the day? We have a bit of a surprise, planned for today. A really good one, I promise. It involves lots of animals.” Roman said, with a wink, lifting Patton into his arms and doing a little spin with him that got the kid giggling. 

“Animals? What kind? Cats?” Patton asked, as Roman carried him towards the door. 

“Oh, definitely cats. Really big cats!” Roman shot him a smile as they left the room, giving him space to compose himself. Roman could always tell, when he needed reassurance and when he needed some air, some space.

He took a deep breath, rubbing at his face and trying to quell the emotions bubbling under the surface. Fine. He was fine. It was fine. 

God, he was such a bad liar. And such a hypocrite, too. He was the one who had told Patton that it was ok to not be fine, to let it out, to feel things. He took another deep breath, shoving back his hair and getting to his feet, shoving on clothes.

Picani was going to do that stupid small smile, the one that said ‘I told you so’ even though he would deny ever thinking that, saying that Virgil was projecting his own feelings and blah blah blah smart person jedi mind trick mumbo jumbo. Roman wasn’t kidding, when he said the man had been almost begging him to say something about that night since the beginning. Technically, Picani was a child psychologist. But Virgil had refused to see anyone else, even when he barely spoke in his sessions with Emile, at the very start, there had been a level of trust there.

Because Emile had been there, that night. Emile had known. He didn’t have to deal with the questions that would come from someone new. He didn’t have to deal with breaking down because he wasn’t going to answer those, and they wouldn’t stop prodding, and then he’d lash out, and be branded aggressive even though he wasn’t. 

He was just scared. 

But he’d met enough adults to know that they wouldn’t care to look deeper. No one ever did. But Emile did. So he’d kept seeing him, even when he was technically an adult, and then more than technically an adult, and neither of them brought that up, because they both knew why. 

And now he was finally going to have to talk about it. 

That was almost scarier than what had actually happened.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Logan appears!

“Look! Looklooklooklook!” Roman laughed, Patton bouncing up and down on his feet, frantically pointing at the snow leopard currently curled up literally right in front of the glass, her head smooshed against it, sleeping blissfully. 

“I’m looking, I’m looking!” Patton wiggled out of his arms, running over to the glass, nose to nose with it, eyes wide as he stared at the big cat. 

“She’s so perfect. I just wanna rub her ears and her belly and squeeze her lil murder mittens.” He exhaled, Virgil nearly choking on his spit at the term ‘murder mittens’, trying not to die of laughter. 

“I wouldn’t advise that.” Patton looked up. He hadn’t even realized there was another boy there, standing a few inches back from the glass, a contemplative look on his face, as he pushed up his glasses. “She probably weighs close to 125 pounds, and her canines are about 1 inch long. In their natural habitat they take down prey easily weighing three times your size, not to mention with horns and hooves and other natural defenses. If you were to attempt to pet the leopard, you would most certainly be mauled to death.   
Of course, she does have regular interaction with humans, being in a zoo, so that may affect her attitude slightly. Still, a strange being in her territory would be seen immediately as a threat. So, a five percent survival chance, I suppose.” He contemplated for a moment, looking between the boy and the sleepy kitty cat, before nodding. 

“It would be worth it. Look how fluffy she is!” The boy’s lips twitched slightly, like he was trying not to smile, as his eyes flicked to him. 

“Well, I suppose that is a matter of opinion. I would much prefer not to be eaten by a Panthera Uncia.” 

“Bless you.” Patton replied, and the boy looked confused, for a moment, before simply shaking it off. “I’m Patton. What’s your name?” He asked, getting up from his crouched position and approaching the boy, who seemed unsure what to do with this information. 

“Logan.” Patton nodded. 

“You seem really smart.” Logan seemed to deflate, slightly, at those words, gaze shifting away. “Do you wanna be friends? I bet you know all kinds of cool stuff about the animals! My favorite are the cats, but you already probably figured that out. I don’t really know much about them, though, other than they’re cute and fluffy, so you can teach me all about them! If… if you want. I mean.” He tapered off, suddenly self-conscious, what was he doing, asking someone for something, asking a stranger to be his friend, he didn’t even know them, why would they want to spend time with someone so stupid like him, when they were obviously so smart? 

“You… want me to teach you?” Logan asked, and he cringed. 

“Sorry. It was stupid. I should just leave you alone, I didn’t mean to bother you.” He turned, but suddenly there was a hand on his, squeezing it lightly, and he looked up to see Logan, face slightly red as he dropped his hand, clearing his throat. 

“It’s… I was just surprised. Most people think I’m a know it all and don’t want to listen and bully me, because I’m smarter than them it makes them mad. But… um, have you looked at the tigers, yet? It’s actually a small family group, the mom and four adult cubs. It’s fascinating, since in the wild they’re mostly solitary creatures, but here they’ve formed almost a pack like structure…” Patton listened intently as Logan spoke, following him over to the tiger enclosure, watching two of the cubs playing in the water, splashing each other. When he interrupted Logan’s current speech to ask about it, he switched topics easily, to how tigers actually love to swim and play in water. 

“virgil.” Roman whispered, voice high, hands on his cheeks. 

“yeah, Princey?” Virgil asked, grinning himself, both from watching Patton and his new pal Logan, and from the bubbling excitement boiling over from his husband, who was literally jumping up and down, a mirror of Patton moments before. 

“hemadeafriend!” came out in a rush, such a high pitched squeal that Virgil was sure only dolphins could understand him. “he made a friend and they’re adorable, look at them!” He continued, and Virgil rolled his eyes, looking at the two boys. 

Patton was pressed up against the glass, again, cooing at the tigers, while Logan spoke, gesturing animatedly. Every once in a while, Logan paused, seemingly unsure of if he should continue, clearly expecting Patton to get bored of him, but Patton would simply ask another question, blinking up at him with bright, acute interest, as they darted from enclosure to enclosure inside the big cat building. 

“Logan! I swear to christ, kid, you’re gonna give me a heart attack!” A man yelled, rushing past them, his brown leather jacket and dark glasses sticking out, because it was both too hot for a coat and too dark indoors to need sunglasses. 

“Oh. Sorry.” Logan replied, as the man skidded to a stop before him, though his expression was completely unrepentant. 

“Uh huh, sure, you little thorn in my side. Warn a guy next time you decide to disappear into a building, m’kay? Nearly gave me a heart attack, you mongrel.” The man said, ruffling Logan’s hair, tone playful, and Logan merely batted his hand away, before giving him a quick hug. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He mumbled, and the man sighed, patting his back. 

“I know, kid. You get so wrapped up in your head, you forget about things like common sense. Just try and warn me, before you wander off.” Logan nodded, turning to go back to his lecture, surprised to find Patton nearly on top of him, almost hiding behind him, eyes wide and afraid. 

“dad, you scared Patton.” He stated firmly, ignoring his father, and turning to focus on his new… friend? “hey. Are you ok?” He asked softly. “He didn’t mean to scare you. I just have a bad habit of wandering off on my own. He was just worried about me.” 

“he’s not… he’s not mad? He won’t… he won’t hurt… you?” Patton whispered, and Logan’s eyes widened, shaking his head vehemently. 

“no. He’d never. I promise.” Patton relaxed a bit, though there was still an uneasiness about him that hadn’t been there earlier, and he turned with a glare to his dad, crossing his arms. A silent demand to fix it. He sighed, but knelt down. 

“Hey, kid. I’m Remy, Logan’s dad. It’s nice to meet you. He doesn’t have many friends, y’know, so I’m glad you’re giving him a chance.” Patton smiled shakily at the outstretched hand, shaking it tentatively. 

“I’m Patton. He’s teaching me about the cats. I love them, but I’m allergic.” Logan made a slightly strangled sound, turning to stare at Patton. 

“You are allergic to cats. But you are wearing a cat sweater, and they are your favorite animal, and you would risk death to pet a snow leopard.” Patton nodded, tilting his head in confusion. 

“yes?” 

“Why?! That makes no logical sense!” He sputtered. Patton shrugged, slipping his hands into the cat paw mittens on the sweater, holding them up. 

“murder mittens?” Logan made another noise of exasperation, as Remy stood, chuckling. 

“I’ll leave you kids to your fun. Looks like you’ve got a busy day ahead of you, Lo.” He called, walking back over to the benches in the front of the door, collapsing into one and rubbing his face. “that kid is gonna kill me, I swear to god.” He muttered, though he was smiling as he watched Logan return to his lecture, Patton’s head tilted towards him as he listened. 

“cute kid. Yours?” Roman jumped slightly, as Remy addressed them, though he didn’t take his eyes off Logan.

“Yeah. He is.” Virgil answered softly. “He is now.” Remy's eyes flicked up, softening further.

“Seems like quite the character. Not many kids have the patience for Logan. Much as I love him, he doesn’t really get the whole being a kid thing. He’s so mature for his age, he just… doesn’t fit in.” Roman smiled.

“Honestly I think Patton could make friends with anyone. He’s like a golden retriever. I don’t think Logan could shake him now even if he wanted to.” Remy snorted, leaning back on the bench, Patton's giggle echoing through the space, followed by a soft chuckle from Logan, which got Remy grinning. It took a lot, to crack through Logan's too serious veneer. But Patton seemed to have slipped through rather quickly. 

“Oh! We should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Roman, this is my husband Virgil.” Roman said, bumping Virgil lightly with his shoulder. 

“Remy.” Their conversation was interrupted by Patton practically bouncing over to them, pulling Logan along behind him.

“Can we go to the aviary? Logan knows all the birds and where the little ones hide! Right Lo?” he asked, Logan's ears going slightly red at the nickname. 

“Um. Yes. I… I do.” Patton shot him a dazzling grin, and he felt himself flush further. No one had ever… liked, listening to him before. Even the ones who were nice and let him keep talking away didn’t really listen, they just zoned out after a while, tuning him out. 

Patton wasn’t like that. Whenever he stopped talking, sure Patton wasn’t listening, was sick of his voice, he simply looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes, asking another question or commenting on whatever they’d been speaking about. 

He was listening. The whole time, he was listening and absorbing everything and was interested and just as curious as he himself was, about the world and everything in it. It was… fun. This was fun. 

“of course. Lead the way, Logan.” Roman answered, following the kids out the door, Remy right behind them.

Patton’s mouth dropped as they entered the aviary. It was a large, rainforest style area, with walkways and a few benches, and birds free flying absolutely everywhere. Immediately, he ran to the side of a small bridge, looking down into the little shallow creek that wove through the area, jumping up and down at the cuteness. 

“Ducklings! There are lil baby ducklings!” they were paddling around, cheeping quietly, occasionally dunking their beaks in the water. 

“Yes. I imagine there will be lots of baby animals soon, many of the ones they breed are pregnant at the moment. Please don’t chase the ducklings, Patton, I know they’re… cute… but that would greatly distress them and the mother.” Logan commented, noticing Patton’s hyper focused stare at the ducks. He whined, but nodded. 

“Ok. I don’t wanna scare them. They’re just so fluffy!” Logan’s mouth quirked up in that almost smile again, as he adjusted his glasses. 

“You are a big fan of fluffy, aren’t you?” 

“Isn’t everyone?” He replied simply, linking their arms together in another display of friendship and comradery that Logan had no idea what to do with or how to handle, as they started walking around the exhibit. 

Most of his awkwardness faded, as Patton started asking questions, about what different birds were, where they came from, how big they got. He managed to spot a few of the smaller ones on his own as well, though they camouflaged well with the trees and natural environment.

Logan was speaking about some of the foliage, the large ferns that lined some of the pathway, when Patton made a small squeak, instantly freezing. He turned to ask what was the matter, eyes widening. 

“Oh. It’s a Melopsittacus undulatus. They are notoriously friendly birds. Otherwise known as a budgie, or a parakeet. They are kept as pets quite frequently, and are highly intelligent and trainable. I’ve never seen one in here, before. They must be a new addition.” He felt something brush over his head, and instinctively ducked, stifling a smile as a second parakeet, clearly a female, based on the coloring, landed atop Patton’s head. 

“what do I do?” Patton whispered, clearly trying his best not to make any movement, even stifling his breath. “I don’t wanna scare them.” 

“Just stay still. They’ll probably fly off in a few moments.” Patton let out another squeak as they both took off, rustling his hair, and chirping as they went, chasing each other through the air, before climbing into a craggy nest box. 

“Patton, that was amazing!” Roman called, swooping him up and spinning him around in a circle, before setting him down, giggling. 

“Logan said they were parakeets!” He chirped.

“Cool. They seemed to like your hair. Probably would make a good nest.” Virgil teased, ruffling his hair. While they talked, Logan sidled over to his dad, who glanced at him with a small smirk. 

“What is it, Logan?” 

“What do I do?” he asked. 

“What do you mean, what do you do?” Remy replied, and Logan nearly screamed in frustration. 

“He’s being my friend. I don’t have friends, I don’t know how to have friends!” He hissed, and Remy snorted. 

“Well, you’re doing pretty good so far. He seems to like you well enough.” 

“That doesn’t help!” Remy shrugged, as Patton called out for him, grabbing his hand and once again pulling him onwards. 

They ended up only getting through a third of the zoo, despite it not being all that large, thanks to Patton learning everything he could about everything in every exhibit from Logan. The two had been inseparable the entire time, giving Roman and Virgil plenty of time to get to know Remy. 

He was a single dad. Logan’s mom was out of the picture, had left when he was young and given up her custody of him without a fight, leaving Remy to figure out how to parent and raise a baby all by himself. He’d done the best he could, but Logan had turned out alright. He was just far more mature than his peers, partly because he was so amazingly smart. He read everything he could get his hands on, fascinated by the world and driven by the need to understand everything in it. He was brilliant, but he had trouble being social, understanding the cues and context that made up human interaction. 

“thank you. For wandering around and telling me things.” Patton said, sitting down on a bench outside the zoo next to Logan, while their parents exchanged information. “I know I’m not very smart, so it’s a hassle trying to teach me, but it was really fun, listening to you, even if I didn’t understand everything. I’m pretty dumb, so.” He shrugged, and Logan turned to him, frowning. 

“I don’t think that’s true.” Patton tilted his head, biting his lip. “I don’t think you’re dumb. You’re curious, like me, and you followed most of what I said. I think people just haven’t taken the time to teach you things. I think you really want to learn. I think you’ll learn really fast, once someone starts teaching you. I think you’re really actually very smart.” He froze in surprise as Patton launched himself at him, throwing his arms around him and hugging him. 

“thank you. You’re the best best friend I could ever ask for.” Patton whispered, and he found himself hugging Patton back.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil's emergency therapy session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance

Virgil’s foot tapped nervously, as he sat in the waiting area. He was there early, earlier than he usually would be to an appointment, but when his anxiety acted up he tended to show up places early for fear of being late.

That had backfired on him in college. He’d always shown up to the classrooms a half hour before class started, so early no one else was even there yet, which made him paranoid that he’d gone to the wrong room and was still going to be late for class. 

It didn’t help that this wasn’t his usual appointment. He’d called, Picani always had open spots for emergencies or last minute sessions, he’d give up his lunch hour if someone needed him badly. Luckily, he’d had an early morning opening, so here he was. 

His sleep hadn’t been great. He was sure it showed. His hair was messy, though he’d brushed it, and his eyeshadow was more rushed and smudged than ever. He hadn’t been able to get it right, so he’d just given up and left it, figuring no one would comment. The people who worked the desk knew him, anyway, he’d been a constant here for longer than some of them had actually worked at the office, so they’d only nodded kindly when he’d checked in. 

He wasn’t sure he’d slept at all, really. Every little creak seemed to startle him out of the half sleep he’d achieved, everything had felt too loud, and every time he closed his eyes all he saw were those moments before the shots, fumbling for the gun. 

It hadn’t been this bad in years. He’d been planning on waiting for his weekly session to talk about it, but five days was too long. It was like now that he’d decided he needed to say something about it, the memories wouldn’t leave him alone, they were overwhelming him, and he just wanted to scream. 

Instead he was tapping his foot, hood pulled up low over his face, trying and failing to resist the urge to bite his nails. He felt like a kid being sent to the principal’s office, even though he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. His stomach churned and he winced. Why was waiting so much harder, now, than it had ever been before?

“virgil.” Emile said his name softly, and he was sure he’d purposefulfy made noise on his way over, but he still jumped like a startled alley cat, almost hissing to complete the picture. His eyes were soft and worried, no doubt taking in his state. Emile knew him better than anyone else, better even than Roman, it was no wonder he was worried. Emile didn’t say anything else, simply tilted his head, and Virgil followed him into his office, collapsing into the chair, pulling his legs to his chest, trying to do his breathing exercises. Trying to figure out how the hell to even start. 

“I killed someone.” He started, voice shaking. “I. Killed. Someone.” Emile nodded slowly, eyes searching, as he settled into his own chair. 

“you did. In a more than justified use of force, you used violence to defend yourself. There was no other option available to you, so you did what you could.” 

“I could have just died.” He nearly whispered, dark eyes covered by his hair. Emile inhaled softly and slowly, leaning forward in his chair. 

“Virgil-“ 

“What? It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble. Not like anyone even cared, before then. Not like anyone cared, when I was being beaten or starved or locked in rooms for days on end. Not my teachers, who didn’t care if I never showed up to class, didn’t care about the obvious bruises around my neck and wrists. Not the neighbors, who I know had to have heard something, have to have seen something, with how often and how loud he was. Not the social workers or the police, not anyone, not even you, until I showed up bleeding out on the surgery table! Then suddenly everyone cares, then I get put in a good home and get checked up on weekly and get free counseling and get academic support, the only reason is because every single goddamn part of the system failed miserably because nobody cared to do their jobs when their job is literally supposed to be keeping children fucking safe!   
So yeah, once I got stabbed half a dozen times by my foster guardian, everyone stepped up to show how supportive, and how good, and how seriously everyone takes these kinds of incidences and are so dedicated to making sure it never happens again, and we’ll be more careful, we’ll pay closer attention, well guess what!?   
I have a son at home who’s gone through the exact same fucking thing! He was abused and beaten and starved and locked in a pitch black basement for days on end and once again the system didn’t do a goddamn thing until he’d nearly died from neglect! No one really cares, no one actually gives a damn, they just care about covering their own asses once something goes wrong!  
So yeah, it would have been a lot more simple and probably a lot less hassle for everyone involved if I had just let myself die!” He exploded, curling up into himself, nails digging into his scalp, as he curled tight around himself, shaking. “it’s not like I didn’t want to. Not like I didn’t think about it. I don’t know why I didn’t just let go, it was right there, and I wouldn’t let go.” 

“Because you have always been a fighter, Virgil. You have never given up. Even when you were at your lowest, you didn’t give up because there is some part of you that loves living too much to just give up on the world.  
You’re angry. You have every right to be angry. Because you’re right. No one noticed until it was too late, or looked the other way because it wasn’t their problem. And you suffered for it. Not the ones who made the decisions, who put you in that situation in the first place, they don’t go to sleep with the weight of a life on their conscience, and it isn’t fair. It isn’t right. It didn’t change anything. So be angry.  
But don’t let that anger and bitterness and fear define you, Virgil. You’ve come so far, from that night, and you’ve done so well for yourself, and those feats are not to be ignored. Think of this.   
What negative impact have you had on the world? And then what positive effect have you had on the world?   
When you weigh those against each other, your actions have been overwhelmingly positive. You always choose to be kind, Virgil. You always choose to be the best person you can at any given moment. There’s a spark in you that you refused to let go out, no matter how hard anyone tried to stifle it, you still kept it lit.   
Because when it comes down to it, you want to live. You always have. You’ve wanted to live your way, with your own choices, and now you are. Every day, you are. That’s what matters. Who you choose to be, not what you’re forced to be.  
And you’re choosing to be a loving husband, a doting father, and an overall amazing person.” He inhaled sharply, feeling a bit more steady, grabbing a fistful of tissues and scrubbing at his face, which was covered in tears and snot from his messy sobs. 

“Then why does it hurt? If I did the right thing, if I did what I had to, why does it still hurt like this? Why am I still afraid of him?” 

“Because you’re afraid of yourself. You’re scared that killing someone is something you have done, something you have the capability of doing, and despite the dire circumstances under which you used force, you’re scared that you’ll do it again to someone you love by accident, no matter how unlikely that is.” His breathing hitched as his blood ran cold, because yes, that was exactly what he was afraid of. 

“I wasn’t even sorry. I’m still… I’m still not. I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry it happened to me, I’m sorry I got stabbed, I’m sorry I got caught sneaking in, I’m sorry I was there to begin with, but I’m not for a second sorry that I actually murdered someone. It scares me that I’d do it again! If…If someone was threatening Roman or Patton like that, I’d do it again. I’d do it again because I can’t… I can’t lose them, I can’t, I…” He was stuttering in breaths again, but he didn’t care. “I’m only going to hurt them. That’s what I’m good at. Hurting people.”

“Do you think Roman would agree with that statement?” Emile asked softly, though everything sounded like a thunderclap. 

“no.” He whispered. 

“Do you think Patton would?” 

“…no…” 

“And you trust Roman.” He nodded, already knowing where this was going. “So why don’t you trust his assessment of you? We are always harder and more judgmental of ourselves than we will ever be towards anyone else. Our views of ourselves are often skewed, so you must rely on those around you, who know you the best, to help see yourself more clearly. If you can’t trust yourself, trust Roman. Can you do that?” He let out a long breath, eyes flicking to Emile’s for a moment, before looking away again. 

“I… I’ll try.” 

“Good. That’s good, Virgil. I know this is incredibly difficult to talk about, to relive and recall. But is there anything else about this you want to discuss?” He hesitated, taking a deep breath in and out, closing his eyes.

“I was just… I was just scared, y’know? I was expecting… I mean, I wasn’t supposed to be out, I knew if I got caught, I’d get punished, I was expecting that, I was braced for it and then… I didn’t even know what had happened, at first. I just… I was suddenly on the floor and everything was too fast and too slow and blurry, and I couldn’t breathe right, and I couldn’t reach the… the gun, and then he just buried the blade in my back, and it hurt, it just… it hurt so bad… and I could feel it, scraping against my spine when I finally managed to grab it and had to flip over, I could feel myself drowning on my own blood, I could feel myself dying, and I was so… I was so scared, and everything just… went black.   
And then I woke up. I didn’t expect to wake up. And I was just… I was tired. I was so tired, so I just… stopped. Everything stopped. Nothing mattered anymore, I didn’t care anymore, I didn’t want to care anymore, I just wanted to be numb, I didn’t want to feel, I didn’t feel… anything, really. I know you were always trying to get me to talk about how I felt, what was going on, but really, then, there wasn’t anything. Maybe a small twinge of excitement, if I got a good grade, a small twinge of fear here and there if I thought I’d done something wrong, but it was just like nothing had any impact, on me.  
It was like I’d never really woken up, from it. I was just… a dead man walking. A zombie. Nothing. And I didn’t want to be anything more. I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t want to feel anything, because then I’d feel everything.” He could practically hear Picani thinking over everything he’d said. 

“do you regret waking up?” He snorted, lips twitching upwards just a tad at the question, because he knew they both knew the answer to that question. 

He’d woken up for Roman, because of Roman, and Roman was possibly the single best thing to ever happen to him, though Patton was quickly surpassing Roman in competition for the top spot. 

“no.” Because what he was practically asking was did he regret Roman, and that answer would always be no. “I don’t. what I woke up for was worth it. Was worth feeling.” Emile nodded, a small smile on his lips, before his eyes went serious once more. 

“One last thing, for you to think on. Out of all the emotions we’ve spoken about today, the most prominent and persistent one is fear. Nothing you’ve done had been out of anger, or with malicious intent. All of the actions you’ve taken were borne from the fear taught to you, and in an effort to defend or protect yourself however you could.   
That doesn’t make you a bad person, or a dangerous one. It simply makes you a sensible one. In your most fraught, terrified moments, your instinct has always been simply to defend. And that protective instinct easily encompasses both Roman and Patton, who both need someone who is watching out for them.   
You’re a good person, Virgil. I know it doesn’t feel like it, up here, sometimes,” Emile tapped his head, “but you are. And I’m sure Roman will be more than willing to remind you, when you can’t find it in yourself to believe it.” Virgil nodded, feeling too choked up to say anything, though he felt lighter, tons lighter, than he had in years. “and thank you, for trusting me. I’m so proud of you, Virgil.” Emile murmured, as he lead him back to the lobby. 

Virgil jumped as his phone rang, brows creasing. He had it on silent, he always did during his sessions, only a few numbers would actually cause it to ring, and only when they called him, numbers that were programmed as emergency contacts.

Janus. Janus never called. Remus would call all goddamn hours of the day, if he felt like it, just to say whatever random thing was on his mind, before instantly hanging up, it was more amusing than anything else, but Janus rarely even texted, preferring email because he had to make himself as inconvienent to contact as possible, just for the hell of it. 

Janus was calling. He should answer. He hit the green button, holding the phone to his ear. 

“Janus? What-“ He broke off, face paling and breath catching, blood running cold. He hadn’t realized he’d dropped to the floor, his vision spotty, but he must have, because he blinked and suddenly he was on the ground, heart pounding as he forced himself to listen, before numbly hanging up. 

“Virgil. What is it?” Emile asked, placing a hand on his shoulder, and his vision was blurred as he looked up at Emile, barely able to continue breathing through the panic eating at his lungs. 

“roman. Roman’s in the hospital. He was in a car accident. On his way… on his way to pick me up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo whoops?   
> The angst train may have hit Virgil  
> But then an actual truck hit Roman.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang goes to the hospital

Things happened in a blur. 

He called Remy. 

“Sup babes? Your kid’s got mine doing macaroni art. I think he’s having an existential crisis.” 

“remy…” he croaked, and he could practically feel the playful smirk drop from Remy’s face. 

“What is it?” 

He didn’t remember stumbling through an explanation, but he must have, because the next thing he knew he was outside, Remy leading him to the car, shoving him gently into the backseat, next to Patton, who looked afraid and confused. 

“Roman’s hurt?” He asked, and Virgil forced himself to pull it together, just a bit, because Patton needed him, needed him to be present and calm. 

“Y-yeah. He’s at the hospital. We’re gonna go find him, ok? I’m sure… I’m sure he’s fine.” He managed, rather unconvincingly, he was sure. But Patton nodded, though his own eyes were wet and glassy. 

“ok.” 

He didn’t remember the drive. 

One minute they were on the road, the next they were getting out of the car, and it took everything in him not to sprint to the doors, to rush to the counter. He might have rushed the counter, anyway, but as soon as they entered, Remus was there, pulling him into an uncustomary tight hug, before releasing him, turning his attention to Patton, who was clinging to Logan’s hand. 

“Hey there, little sir. It’s good to see you again. Who’s your friend here?” He asked gently, crouching to their level.

“Logan. Logan, this is Remus. He’s nice.” Patton mumbled, and Logan stuck out his hand. 

“Nice to meet you.” Remus shook it, smiling. 

“You too. Now, why don’t we go find some snacks, yeah? We’ll let Virgil get everything all sorted out, and check back in, in a little bit. I know where the good vending machines are, trust me, they’ve got hostess cakes.” Remus whispered conspiratorially, and the kids nodded, though Patton looked back at Virgil hesitantly. 

“Go on. We’ll get you once we know what’s going on. Promise.” Patton nodded, biting his lip, squeezing Logan’s hand tightly, as they followed Remus off, Remy squeezing Virgil’s shoulder before following after the kids and Remus.

“Virgil-“ 

“How bad is it?” He asked, cutting Janus off. He sighed, tugging on his sleeves. 

“I don’t know. They haven’t told us anything. Just that his car was T-boned at an intersection, the driver was fine, drunk, but fine, and under arrest now, obviously. Looking forwards to prosecuting him later.” Janus’s mouth twisted into a sharp smile, vengeance in his eyes, before he shook his head again. “Roman was cut out of the car, the door was stuck shut from the impact, then taken by ambulance here. That’s… that’s all we know. It’s only been twenty minutes, since they got him here. I can’t tell if not hearing anything yet is a good or bad sign. They’re so damn poker faced up at the desk.” 

“I’m going to go see if I can learn anything. I’m his husband, they have to tell me something, they have to at least tell me if he’s going to be okay, he has to be ok, Janus, he can’t…he can’t leave me.” He whispered, words caught in his throat, and Janus softened, pulling him close into a tight hug. 

“He won’t. This is Roman we’re talking about. He’s the most stubborn, pig headed person we know. He’s not going anywhere, he wouldn’t dare.” He let out a soft sob, shaking, mind racing with what ifs, with worst case scenarios, with images of Roman, body bent and twisted, bleeding out on a surgery table, heart monitor going dead, his eyes glassy and open and gone, Roman gone, and he can’t leave, he can’t, because then how the fuck would he put himself back together enough to raise Patton alone?

“Mr. Prince?” He spun instantly, hands shaking, gulping in a deep inhale of air as he met the eyes of a man in a white coat, clearly a doctor. 

“yes. That’s… that’s me.” 

“I’m Dr. Michael. I’ve been handling your husband’s case. He is extrodinarily lucky. The car hit the driver’s side, but it impacted behind the driver’s side door. The force of it cause his head to slam back from the airbag fairly hard, so he has a mild concussion, though the skull wasn’t fractured, simply bruised back there. His left arm got twisted back in the crash, so we had to go in and insert two pins to hold the bone. His arm is in a cast now, and he’ll have to have that on for a month or so. He’s badly bruised and scraped up, has a couple of bruised ribs, but is otherwise fine. He’s on some mild painkillers as well as fluids, and we’re going to keep him overnight, for observation, but all of the x-rays and tests didn’t show any other injuries or internal bleeding, so barring any unforeseen complications, he should be able to go home tomorrow morning.” He felt like there was cotton in his ears, his blood rushing through him, and he felt like he was going to faint, as he sunk into a chair.

“He’s… ok? He’s going to be ok?” he asked breathlessly. 

“Yes. There doesn’t look like there will be any long term repercussions from this. Like I said, he got extremely lucky. I can show you to his room, if you like.” He shot to his feet instantly, before looking to Janus. 

“Patton-“ 

“I’ll get them. You go.” The doctor gave Janus the room number and directions, before guiding him down a couple of halls, stopping outside a door. 

“The nurses will be in and out to check on his vitals, make sure everything looks normal. He might be a little discombobulated, and the concussion could make it a bit harder than usual for him to focus, to keep his balance when he walks, but we’ll get to that when he gets discharged tomorrow. If you need anything, press the call button. I’ll leave you with him, for now, unless you have any other questions?” He shook his head, feeling himself trembling. 

“No… I… thank you.” He said wetly, and the doctor smiled kindly, squeezing his shoulder. 

“I’m just glad he’ll be alright. We get too many unhappy endings, here. It’s nice to see a good one, for a change.” With that, the doctor left him alone, hovering outside the door. 

He took a deep breath, bracing himself, before opening the door and quietly closing it behind him, practically creeping into the small, quiet room, the only sound the soft blip of the heart monitor, a steady, relieving beep. Each one confirmed that Roman was alive, alive, alive.

His hand flew to his mouth, tears welling as he took in his husband. 

He was bruised, his entire face was an angry purple bruise, a scrape across his cheek, a cut across his forehead, bandages across his nose, a bit of dried blood crusting it, no doubt from impacting the air bag. His left arm was in a sling across his chest, his other limp by his side, bruises peppering it, a scrape across the elbow, and god, he was so still. Roman was always moving, even in his sleep, he would toss and turn, steal the blankets, nuzzle closer, murmur nonsense from his dreams out loud, he was never still.

It felt like some kind of fever dream, as he slowly crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed, gently taking Roman’s hand, squeezing it lightly as tears dripped down his face, he was hurt, his best friend in the world was hurt and he knew he’d be fine, knew the doctor had said he’d be fine, but he couldn’t help but worry, jump to the most severe conclusions, the illogical fear that maybe the doctor got it wrong, maybe Roman was in a coma and wouldn’t ever wake up worming it’s way to the front of his brain, until he let out a soft sob, closing his eyes against the fear. 

Fine, fine, everything would be fine, it was going to be fine, everything was fine, he was fine, Patton was fine, Roman… Roman was fine.

His eyes flew open at a squeeze of his hand, breath caught in his throat as he met Roman’s eyes, Roman was awake, Roman was looking at him, worry and softness on his face, as Virgil searched every inch of his face, because he still couldn’t believe that Roman was fine. 

“Virgil.” Roman murmured, voice tired, but full of love and adoration, and he let out the gasping sob that had been building in his chest, then his lips were on Roman’s, and Roman’s good arm was wrapped around his waist as he kissed back, finally parting after a long moment for breath, though Virgil didn’t move away, curling against him as best he could in the small bed without leaning too heavily on him, sobbing into his shoulder. “Oh, darling. Shh, it’s ok. It’s ok, Virgil.” He shook his head, unable to speak through the unfathomable relief that was washing through him. 

“I’m sorry… I’m s-sorry, it’s my fault, you could have died, Ro, you could have…” He felt a kiss against his hair, Roman’s hand stroking the back of his neck in circles. 

“What are you talking about, stormy night?” 

“you were coming to p-pick me up. I sh-should have just driven myself, you shouldn’t have been there, you shouldn’t have got hurt, I… I’ s-sorry!” He cried, feeling Roman cradle him closer, shushing him softly. 

“it isn’t. It isn’t your fault, darling, none of this is your fault. The only person who’s at fault is the one who ran the stop sign and hit the car. Don’t put this on yourself, Virgil. You’re just as blameless as me. It’s not your fault, I promise, I promise, love.” Roman tilted his chin up, pressing another kiss to his lips, lingering there, breathing in each other’s air, the moment broken by the door swinging open. 

“Hey bitch. Nice job! If you were gonna get in an accident, you could’ve at least been in a cool one where the car flipped over and rolled, and started on fire!” Virgil snorted despite himself, sitting up and moving to the chair next to Roman’s bedside, not letting go of his hand for a single second, still unable to take his eyes off him, in case between one blink and the next he vanished. 

“Good to see you too, Remus. Why don’t you start a dumpster fire and then jump into it.” Roman replied, rolling his eyes, and Remus grinned. 

“Welp, he’s gonna be fine!” Remus declared simply, plopping down onto the end of the bed.. “I’m glad.” He said quietly, something softer slipping onto his face, and Virgil knew they were doing that twin thing where they communicated without saying a word.

“roman?” Patton asked, peeking in from the doorway, tentative and scared. Roman smiled softly. 

“I’m here, little prince. I’m alright.” He murmured, bracing himself as Patton flung himself onto the bed, though he was surprisingly careful, as he tucked himself against Roman, burying his face against his side, crying softly. 

“Oh, honey.” Roman murmured, letting go of Virgil’s hand to rub Patton’s back, pressing his own face against Patton’s hair, feeling his own tears well at how hard Patton was shaking, clinging to him like his life depended on it. 

“I love you. I love you so much, Patton. I love you both, so much.” Roman murmured. “you can go to H-E- double hockey sticks Remus.” He muttered, getting a laugh from his brother, who squeezed his leg lightly, Janus chuckling from the doorway. 

“I sent Remy and Logan on their way, once we learned Roman would be fine. He said he’d call you later, Virgil, and Logan said to tell you goodbye, and he hopes you can see each other again soon, Patton.” Janus informed. “Only family is allowed to visit, anyways, so it made no sense for them to stick around.” Virgil nodded, slumping back in his chair, letting out a deep, aching sigh, tension washing out of him, leaving him emptily exhausted. 

There had been too many emotions, packed into this one day. He was so tired, his appointment with Emile felt like hours earlier. Emile, he should call Emile, and let him know Roman was going to be fine, he was no doubt worried about them both. 

“We’ll handle it, Vee. All of you get some rest.” Janus replied, he hadn’t even realized he’d spoken out loud. 

“You sure? I can call, it’s fine.” 

“Come on, Virg, you know I’m besties with Emile!” 

“You mean he’s infuriated by your wonderful avoidance tactics. I’m sure he’d love to speak with you.” Janus replied dryly. 

“Exactly! Let’s go, daddio, we got calls to make!” Remus exclaimed, dragging Janus out the door, before popping his head back in. “And I swear to god Roman, if you ever pull something like this again I will personally murder you for the inconvenience.” Then he was gone, the door closing behind him. 

“Don’t worry, Pat. That’s his way of saying he loves me, and I scared him.” Roman murmured, and Patton nodded, just barely peeking up at him. 

“you scared me, too. You’re so g-good, and you’re my f-family now and for once everything w-was so good, it w-was so good, so of course it w-would go wrong, it always does, n-nothing good ever happens to m-me. Why would th-is stay? Why would y-you…” Roman exhaled softly, holding Patton closer, as close as he could, kissing his forehead, then the tip of his nose, meeting his eyes with soft sincerity. 

“I will never leave you, Patton. I promise.” 

“pinky promise?” Patton whispered, and he smiled softly, holding out his pinky. 

“Pinky promise. I am not going anywhere.” He said it to Patton, but he met Virgil’s eyes as he spoke them, making him inhale sharply. 

Roman scooted over as far as he could, wincing slightly at the action, his entire body protesting, patting the bed on the other side of Patton. Virgil frowned at him for moving, but slipped onto the bed anyway, spooning around Patton, so he was resting his head in the crook of Roman’s shoulder, Roman’s arm under his head, his hand finding it’s way into Virgil’s hair, teasing at it gently. Virgil’s arms encircled Patton, holding him gently, cradling him in warmth. 

“I love you, Pat. I love you so much, my little prince. You are the most precious thing I have ever laid eyes on, honey, and I will never let you go.” Patton sighed sleepily, nuzzling closer, eyes drooping shut against the warmth and soft fuzziness he felt inside. 

“love you too, dad.” He mumbled, slipping asleep. 

Roman had to stifle his squeal, not wanting to wake up Patton, but he was grinning like a maniac, as he met Virgil’s eyes, who was looking at him with the softest, warmest expression he’d ever seen, it took his breath away, how Virgil looked at him, like he was the most miraculous thing in the world. 

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” Virgil murmured, reaching across Patton, holding the hand in the cast as best he could, trying to force back more tears. “I can’t do this without you. You’re the only reason I’m even still here to begin with. I don’t know… I don’t know if I could have kept going without you, even for Patton.” 

Roman leaned down and kissed his hand, rubbing circles over his knuckles with his thumb, barely sticking out from his cast. 

“You don’t have to, love. I’m here. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, Virgil, I promise, I wouldn’t leave you for anything, I will never leave you, I will always, always come back to you.” Virgil smiled tightly, though more tears were tracking down his face as he took in a shaking breath. 

“You’d better. Or I might join Remus on his quest to ruin your afterlife.” He mumbled, squeezing Roman’s hand, closing his eyes despite himself, the exhaustion cresting over him. Roman hummed softly, and the warmth of the sound sent him over the edge, into an exhausted sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, everything's fine! Everyone's fine!   
> Tadaaaaaaa!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return of the Fluff!

“I do not need a wheel chair!” Roman protested, half glaring at Virgil and the nurse. The doctor had already spoken with them, they had an appointment in two weeks to x-ray his arm again, a prescription for some pain medication, and a list of symptoms associated with concussions to be aware of. 

“Get in the chair, princey. Your entire body will thank you for it later.” He grumbled, but sighed, before his eyes lit up with mischief. 

“Fine. But only if Patton will ride on my lap!” He sing songed, making Patton giggle. 

“Ok!” He said brightly, seeming in much better spirits than he had been yesterday. It seemed that Roman getting to go home had erased all of his worry.

After the few steps it took to get in the chair, he decided maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. He wasn’t that sore from the movement, but he could tell that the walk from his room to the parking lot would have been more than he could manage, especially with his bruised ribs. Any movement sent a sharp ache through them, just breathing hurt, and he was already on his dose of pain meds. 

He smiled as Patton carefully clambered up, kneeling on his lap. Roman wrapped his arm around his waist to keep him steady, giving his nose a quick peck, which made Patton giggle again. 

“Alright! Onwards, my mighty steed! To victory!” He cried, practically able to hear Virgil rolling his eyes. 

“What’s the magic word?” Virgil asked, voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness.

“Please!” Patton cried, grinning up at Virgil, who chuckled, starting to push the chair. Roman gasped, holding Patton steady. 

“Patton, you succeeded in making the rolling chair move! Truly, you must be a talented magician.” Patton giggled, shaking his head. 

“It’s not me, it’s Virgil!” 

“Ah, but not just anyone can get Virgil to do as they ask with one simple word. So I still think you’re a little magic.” He replied, Patton blushing slightly, hiding his head against Roman’s chest. “You’re something special, little prince. You are.” Roman murmured, kissing the top of his head. 

They made it out to the front, and Virgil pulled the car around, lifting Patton into the backseat, before helping Roman to stand, softening at his sharp inhale of breath at the motion, though Roman waved him off. 

“It’s nothing.” He reassured, kissing Virgil softly, who huffed. 

“you got hit by a car. It’s not nothing.” He murmured back, accepting another kiss easily.

“Alright. But it is alright. Because I will be fine. Even if it hurts a bit now, in a week it will be nothing.” He said, slipping into the backseat next to Patton, who helped him buckle in, then shyly kept hold of his hand, as Virgil got in and started the car. 

“Everyone good to go, back there?” He asked, smiling at the small chorus of yeah’s that met his question. 

“Perfect. I got a voicemail saying your glasses are ready, Pat, so if it’s alright with you, we’re gonna go home and get Roman all comfy on the couch, then we’ll go get those. It shouldn’t take too long, you just have to try them on, and then they’ll make any little adjustments they need to so the glasses are comfy. Ok?” He asked, meeting Patton’s eyes in the mirror. 

“Ok. I… I can wear them? Right away?” Patton asked, and Virgil hated the unsurety in his voice, hated the people who had made him ask that question. 

“Of course, baby. You can wear them all the time, if you want. We’re never going to take them away, for any reason. And if they get broken, we’ll get them fixed.” He reassured. “We should probably get you a case for them, too. Maybe one with straps, so you can carry them around, if you don’t feel comfortable wearing them all the time.” He mused, pulling out of the parking lot, missing the somewhat stricken expression on Patton’s face. 

“you won’t be mad? You spent so much money on them, and what’s the point, if I’m not wearing them…” 

“We won’t. we know you have reason to be warry, Pat. It’s ok, if you don’t feel safe enough to wear them all the time, if you’re afraid still that we or someone else is going to break them or take them away. It’s ok. We won’t make you wear them, just like we won’t take them away. It’s up to you, Patton. It’s what you want.” Roman replied, ruffling his hair, smiling as Patton leaned into the touch. 

“thank you.” Patton whispered, leaning against him for the rest of the ride home.  
…  
Virgil helped him inside, fussing over him at every step, despite his protests that he could manage. Patton had darted inside almost as soon as the car had stopped, rushing up to his room with a determined expression, and they hadn’t seen him come down yet. 

Virgil refused to let him help get anything, instead giving him firm orders to sit down on the couch and not get up, as Virgil bustled around, making him some tea and a warm ham and cheese sandwich, making sure his phone and tablet were near so he wouldn’t have to get up to fetch them, that the remote was on the table in front of him, that everything was perfectly within reach. 

“You’re going to be gone maybe 15 minutes, Virg, honestly, it’s not that big a deal.” He said, somewhat exasperated, mostly amused, by his husband’s incessant fretting, looking up at small footsteps coming down the steps, eyes widening. 

Patton was dragging his soft snuggle blanket behind him, arms filled stuffed animals, biting his lip in concentration as he made sure he didn’t drop any, until he made it to the couch, and then let them fall to the floor. 

He tucked the blanket up around Roman, then positioned the stuffed animals around him, before looking up at him with dark, serious eyes. 

“There. Now you won’t get cold or lonely, while we’re gone.” God, his heart must be a pile of putty at this point, with how often Patton was melting it, he was so sweet. He smiled, trying to contain the swelling fondness in his chest, because if he let it out, he’d start crying, and that would only worry Patton. 

“They’re wonderful, little prince. I’m sure they’ll make fine guards, and protect me from all of the bad stuff while you’re gone. And I’ll be waiting right here for you to get back, sweetie. Maybe we can put those new glasses to good use and watch a movie, yeah?” Patton nodded, toeing the ground, before leaning forwards and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“yeah.”

Roman was practically glowing, as Virgil guided Patton out the front door, shooting him a bright smile as they left.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton gets his glasses, and Virgil teaches him a "super power".

“Alright, honey, I’m just gonna slip these on, ok?” Patton nodded, trying to hold still as the glasses were slid onto his face, wincing slightly as the lady’s hand brushed his cheek, steadied by Virgil’s hand on his shoulder. 

Patton blinked, several times, eyes wide. He could see. He could see everything clearly. It was amazing. 

“wow” he whispered, tilting his head. 

“Can you look right at me, hon?” She asked, and he looked up, straight ahead. “Everything looks like it’s situated correctly on your face. Can you nod up and down a couple times, then tell me if you feel it slip at all?” He did, but they stayed right in place on his nose. 

“No. They feel good.” He said, consideringly. 

“Then you’re all set. If you need anything adjusted, you can come back any time. And if anything breaks, you have a year long warranty on both the lenses and frames.” 

“Thanks so much! You ready to go, Pat?” Patton nodded, still a bit wide eyed and stunned as they walked back out into the mall. Everything was so clear! He could see the details on the signs, he could see the mall map from feet away, he could see the ribs on the ferns by the benches. 

“Do you need a sec, Pat?” Virgil asked, noticing how overwhelmed he looked. 

“I’m ok.” He said softly, holding tight to Virgil’s hand. 

“Ok. Should we go pick out a case and satchel for you? I actually have one in mind already.” Patton nodded, staying tucked close to Virgil’s side, eyes widening as they approached the store Virgil was thinking of. It was brightly lit, oozing pink, the neon sign above it reading ‘Claire’s’. 

“Is this ok?” Virgil asked, and Patton hesitated, but nodded. It was sparkly and bright and he liked those things, and Virgil and Roman didn’t seem to care that he liked girl things, and Virgil had brought him here, so it would be alright if he liked it. They walked in, and Patton was instantly browsing over everything, eyes wide at the amount of color and glitter and sparkles and rainbows everywhere, it was like some fantasy land brought to life! 

Virgil grinned, watching, Patton flit around the store like a little curious hummingbird, unable to focus on one item for more than a few seconds before moving on to the next one, making little sounds of excitement or awing when he found a stuffed animal. He sighed, pushing back his hair. Well, Patton certainly wasn’t going to grow up to inherit his emo style, it was clear he was too fond of glitter and color for that. Maybe a pastel punk look. That could be cute. He’d have to look up some outfits and stuff, to show Patton later. He seemed like he’d like that kind of fashion, actually. 

“Virgil, Virgil, Virgil!” Patton ran up to him, bouncing with excitement, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him along, to a back shelf, picking up a little boxy purse. It was made of hard plastic, that was closed with a silver latch at the top. The strap was a silvery chain, the box itself a sparkly, glittering baby blue. It was big enough to fit a glasses case, he was sure, and also a small notebook, maybe also a small paperback book. 

“Is it… is it ok?” Patton asked nervously, and Virgil realized he’d been lost in his own analysis of thoughts too long. 

“It’s perfect, baby. Here, this case matches, for your glasses. That way if you get overwhelmed you can take them off safely. I know that seeing everything so clearly all of a sudden can cause headaches, while your eyes adjust, too, so just another reason to have one handy.” He added, picking a sparkly black case from the shelf behind him, Patton lighting up as he took it, hugging it to his chest. 

“thank you.” He mumbled, and Virgil smiled softly, slowly leaning over and kissing the top of his head, heart swelling with love for this small, sweet boy, that was incredibly, amazingly his. 

“Of course, Pat. If you need something, you can always tell me ok? Or if you just see something, you really, really like, you can tell me. We might not be able to get it, at the time, but you will never get in trouble for asking for something. I promise.” He answered seriously, surprised, as Patton hugged him, his little arms barely reaching his waist. He hugged him back, kissing his head again, waiting for Patton to start drawing away before he let go. 

“you’re so good. Why… why are you just… so good?” Patton asked, his voice small, and the question broke his heart. 

“Because you deserve it, baby. You deserve all the good things in the entire world, and I’m going to do my best to give them all to you. Now, let’s checkout before we both start crying in the mall, and get home to make sure Roman hasn’t gotten himself into any mischief. He likes to try and do things by himself, when he knows he really shouldn’t. But don’t worry, I’ve got a secret weapon to keep him right in place, once we get back.” He said, lightening the mood, winking conspiratorially at Patton as he reached up to put the items on the counter. 

“Really? What is it?” Virgil smiled, as he finished paying, taking the bags. 

“It’s you, silly!” He booped Patton’s nose lightly, making the kid giggle. “He can’t resist that perfect little face of yours, especially if you pout at him. Do you know how to pout?” He asked, and Patton shook his head, though he was smiling curiously. 

“Well… you kinda make your eyes big and pitiful, like this,” Virgil said, widening his eyes just a bit, “then you stick out your lip,” He did it, “Then you kinda look forward with your head, but look up with your eyes, so you look smaller than you already are, and you can clasp your hands in front of yourself, for extra effect. Roman’s a sucker for it, when I do it to him, he can’t resist. There’s no way he’s strong enough to resist you, you sweet little pipsqueak.” Virgil finished, pleased to see Patton giggling, again, as he slipped his hand into Virgil’s. 

“Like this?” Patton asked, screwing up his face for a moment, scrunching his nose, before it settled into a fairly formidable pout, those bright blue eyes were just the dealbreaker, you couldn’t say no to that.

“Oh, that’s perfect, Patton. We’ll wrangle him into staying still and getting better in no time. You sit on him, and he’ll never get up on his own again.” He grinned, as Patton gently bumped into his leg, smiling as they exited the mall and got back in the car.  
…  
Roman looked up from his tablet as the door opened, smiling as Patton came skipping inside, a sparkling purse over his shoulder, his round glasses sitting firmly on his face. It turned to surprise as Patton skipped directly over to him, then plopped right onto his lap, hugging him around his neck. 

Virgil came in behind, raising an eyebrow. 

“Huh. Not gonna lie, expected you to be doing something dumb, like trying to make it up the stairs.” Roman snorted, lopsided smirk on his face. 

“Come on, Virg, I do have some survival instincts.” Virgil just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. 

“Sure you do, Ro. I’m gonna go get started on lunch. Sandwiches ok for everyone?” Patton pulled away, nodding. 

“Ham and cheese?” He asked.

“Sure thing, kid. Remember the plan.” Virgil said with a wink, before slipping into the kitchen. 

“The plan? Have you two been plotting against me?” Roman asked ruffling his hair. Patton nodded sagely, eyes sparkling. 

“uh huh. If I’m on you, you can’t move or get up, so you’ll have to sit still and get better. Virgil said you don’t like to do that on your own. I also have a secret weapon, if I have to use it. Virgil taught me.” He said, smiling up at Roman, who chuckled. 

“Is that so? Whatever could it be? Did you learn to breathe fire?” Patton scrunched up his nose, shaking his head. “Hmmm, ok, did you… learn to fly?” Patton giggled, shaking his head again. “Did you learn to shapeshift?” Patton’s giggle overflowed into an actual, delightfully sweet, laugh.

“No!” Patton laughed, shaking his head. “He taut me how to pout!” Roman gasped dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest. 

“Not the pout! How shall I ever resist your charismatically captivating gaze?! Truly, I am doomed to sit here, immobile, until I have fully recovered from my wounds. What a tragedy.” He declared, unable to keep the soft grin off his face, as Patton laughed again, curling up more comfortably on his lap, like a little kitten. “I love your bag, by the way. Wonderful choice.” Patton blushed, taking it off and popping it open. 

“Got a case, too.” He mumbled, showing it to Roman, who hummed. 

“wonderful. You’re a fan of the sparkles, aren’t you? We’ll have to get out the nail glitter, next time Virgil does yours. It’s quite pretty, though it does tend to get everywhere. We’ll have to put down a towel, just to be safe.” Roman pondered aloud, as Patton slipped off his glasses, putting them in his case, then putting the case and the bag on the coffee table. “everything alright?” He asked, as Patton yawned hugely. 

“Just sleepy.” He replied, eyes slowly blinking shut. 

“Didn’t sleep well in the hospital last night, did you, honey? It’s not the coziest of places, is it?” 

“No. It’s… it’s not.” Patton mumbled back, a small shiver running up his spine. He didn’t like the hospital. That’s where he’d gone, after they’d taken him out of the basement. He didn’t remember it very well, he’d been so cold, and so tired, and so dizzy, but he remembered them examining him, poking and prodding, their fingers cold. He knew the doctors were only trying to help, but it was still scary, and he didn’t like being touched, not where he was hurt, not by these people he didn’t know and didn’t trust and he was still half out of it. 

“It’s alright, honey. You can take a nap. I’ll probably take one too, it was too loud, with all the nurses rushing around and the beeping.” Roman replied, brushing his hand through Patton’s hair, feeling him relax against him at the steady motion. 

“beep was ok. Let me know you were still ok.” Patton mumbled, halfway asleep already, as Roman took in a deep breath. 

“Well. I’m perfectly fine, Patty cake. So you can sleep now.” He murmured back, Patton nodding smally, as his breathing evened out, his tiny hands holding tight to Roman’s shirt. God, he was so small. He was so perfectly, amazingly small. 

“I love you, Pat. Sweet dreams.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft. Soft prinxiety ahead.

Virgil came back in, after a few minutes, smiling softly at Patton asleep on Roman’s lap. He tucked a blanket around the boy, slipping a stuffed animal under his arm, which he quickly snuggled against. He put the plate on the table, passing the other one to Roman. 

“Tuckered out, huh?” He asked, and Roman nodded. 

“can’t imagine he slept well. Either of you.” Roman said softly, turning to look at Virgil, the bags under his eyes slightly more pronounced than usual, his face still a bit tight and drawn. 

“I just kept thinking something would go wrong. Every second I was sure… I was sure suddenly something would happen, they’d missed something, and they’d rush you away into surgery and you… wouldn’t come back.” Virgil shrugged helplessly, pulling at a loose string on his hoodie. 

“Oh, my heart. I’m sorry.” Roman murmured, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, then his lips, cupping his cheek, as Virgil lingered there, pressing their foreheads together. 

“it isn’t… it isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you, just… I don’t know, the world. For almost taking you away. Just as we finally got everything we wanted, it almost took you away.” Virgil whispered, sighing as Roman stroked circles against his cheek.

“aw, you do care, Virg.” Roman teased, getting a small, fond chuckle out of Virgil, who kissed him again, before burying his head against the crook of Roman’s neck. 

“Shut up, you clueless moron.” Came the muffled reply, only making Roman grin wider. 

“You know I love you, Virgil? I love you so much, I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you, and everyone told me to stay away, because I could see you weren’t angry or violent, just… just scared. I could see you just needed a friend, and the more you started to actually talk to me, the more you started to say, the more I loved you.” He could tell Virgil was blushing, though he was pretending not to listen. “I’ll love you for eternity, and not even death could keep me away.” He finished softly, Virgil’s eyes peeking up at him then, so soft and warm they melted him to pieces. 

“How did I ever get so lucky? How did you ever find me, in the entire world, how was it me?” Virgil murmured softly, Roman’s arm wrapping around his shoulders. 

“I’m just that good.” He replied, getting another snort from Virgil, who rolled his eyes, before his face sobered again. 

“I love you, too, Ro. Just don’t… don’t do this to me again, ok, and I’ll call it even.” Roman nodded, nuzzling Virgil’s nose, making him laugh, swatting him away. 

“That I can do, my dark eclipse. That I can do.”  
…  
Roman smiled fondly, as Virgil drifted off to sleep, pressed close against him, one hand across his chest, holding tight to his shirt, as if he were afraid if he let go, Roman would vanish. 

He couldn’t state how much love he held in his heart, for his wonderful, world hardened husband. He’d seen so much, come from such a bad place, and yet, here he was. Here he was, a loving, perfect father, a beautifully kind person, a soft, gentle, soul. 

He remembered, the day that had finally shifted their relationship into something more. Finding Virgil under his usual tree, shaking and afraid and half lost in his head. He’d held him and soothed him, and when it slipped out of Virgil’s mouth that he loved him, he hadn’t hesitated, not even for a moment, because he was just ridiculously amazed that Virgil felt the same way he did. 

He’d been there, when Virgil had come out to his adopted family. Virgil had been scared, terrified, of what would happen, based on his past homes, his past experiences. Roman had assured him he’d be fine, and they’d come up with a backup plan, just in case things weren’t, just to make Virgil feel better, safer. 

It went fine, of course. They accepted it easily, said they’d suspected that him and Roman had been together for a while, but didn’t want to pry, were waiting for him to bring it up. Virgil had cried, and then Roman had cried because Virgil was crying, and though Virgil was on edge for a few days afterwards, waiting for another shoe to drop, but when none came, he finally relaxed, happy to just be with Roman. 

They’d been almost inseperable, since then. He’d gone to a local art school, and Virgil had come with. He liked sketching and drawing as well, and didn’t have any other particular passion, so he decided he might as well get some kind of degree, just to have one opened the door to more jobs, anyways. Roman’s family was fairly well off, so they’d gotten a rinky dink apartment together, on the edge of campus. It was loud, and the stove only had one working burner, half the time the air conditioning didn’t work, but it was theirs, and it was wonderful. Virgil found the art classes to be a lot less stressful than high school classes, most of them were more of a take it at your own pace type classes, anyways, and Roman helped keep him on a schedule with his projects, so he wouldn’t put them off then get overwhelmed later.   
And they were close enough Virgil could keep seeing Picani.

He remembered the night he’d proposed. 

He’d had a whole romantic plan, a whole wonderful day and evening of reservations at resturaunts and walks in the park, and boquets of flowers planned, and none of it had happened. Instead, there had been a tornado rolling through, not slated to hit them directly, but close enough there would be some high winds, lots of rain, taking shelter was recommended. 

So they grabbed the emergency supply bags and hustled into the basement, turning on the battery powered lamp as the power sputtered out. Virgil was panicking, he could tell, so he’d tried to distract him, talking softly, making up stories, but no matter what he did, Virgil was winding himself up more and more. 

“How are you so calm? The house could be falling down around us, we could be stuck under tons of rubble and never be found and suffocate down here and-“ 

“Virgil. We’re going to be fine. It’ll pass by in an hour at most, and everything’ll be fine.” 

“You don’t know that. Shit like that happens all the time, why wouldn’t it happen to us?” Roman looked at him, mind turning. Things did happen. You never knew when something was going to happen, when life would get in the way of plans, and he made up his mind then, that it didn’t matter they were in the basement with sirens going off in the distance. He wouldn’t wait one moment longer. He stood, taking Virgil’s hands gently, meeting his eyes. 

“You’re right. Random chance can change everything, any moment. You know what it can’t change? How much I love you. How much you mean to me. We could lose everything, the world could end tomorrow, and it wouldn’t matter, to me, I wouldn’t care at all, as long as you are right here beside me. Virgil, you are my world, my love, my heart.”

“Princey, what-“ Virgil had cut himself off, sucking in a deep breath, as he’d sunk to his knee, pulling the box out of his pocket with slightly shaky hands, flicking it open and holding it up.

“Will you marry me?” He’d barely gotten the words out, before Virgil had flung himself at him, sobbing and murmuring ‘yes, yes, of course, yes’ over and over again, breathy laughs escaping his lips between kisses, radiant joy making them both giggling, hysterical messes. 

They didn’t even notice that the tornado warning was over, until it half an hour had passed spent giggling and kissing and grinning like idiots.

Looking down at his husband now, he couldn’t begin to fathom spending a single day without his Virgil. And he knew the same was now true of his son, his perfect little boy, his wonderful Patton. He found himself wondering the same question Virgil had asked earlier. How on earth had he ever gotten this lucky?


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a late night.

He was flailing, fighting against the thing weighing him down, lashing out, pounding with all his might, he couldn’t breathe, it was too hot, there wasn’t any air, he was suffocating on the heat and he would die, his heart would stop, it almost had, then, that’s what they’d said after googling how to get him to recover from heat stroke, cause they wouldn’t take him to the doctor, he wasn’t worth the money to go to the doctor, and it was only a few minutes, who knew he was so weak that he couldn’t handle a few minutes alone in the car without almost dying? 

He was weak, pathetic, stupid, useless, why couldn’t he do anything good or right or even ok, why couldn’t he at least be ok, why was it so incredibly hot?! 

He yelped, as he fell a small distance, as whatever was holding him back let go, as the heat evaporated from around him, leaving him so entirely cold, shivering and small, and gasping, realizing slowly there were sounds, there was a voice, a soft voice, a gentle voice, speaking quietly, doing something, counting. 

He was on the floor. Floor. Not the worn and faded carpeting of the car, not the hot metal, not the sweltering, too hot heat, that drenched him in sweat then left him shivering from it, when he couldn’t even sweat anymore. 

He was sweaty now, which is why he was shivering, he was cold, because he was drenched in sweat, his hair stuck to his head, his clothes were soaked, he couldn’t stop shivering, but he flinched away from something being settled over his shoulders, a blanket, he realized, after it fell to the floor. A blanket, because he was shivering, but he was too hot, he didn’t want it, he was still too hot in his mind, even though he was cold right now, and his body couldn’t seem to decide which it should actually be. 

“-on… Patton… breathe… out… n… please…” Voice, the voice was speaking, it was asking him to breathe, he was, he was trying, he was trying!

“I know you are, honey. You’re doing so well.” Another voice, he knew these voices, these nice voices, he liked them, everything was too fuzzy, he couldn’t remember, he couldn’t remember past the fear eating him alive, the claustrophobia, the heat-

He whimpered as someone picked him up, arms around him, it was too much, too much, but just as quickly it was over, and there was cool air around him, fresh air, outside air, night air, the sounds of crickets and grass rustling and a soft wind, and sweet, fresh, cool, air, and finally, finally, he could breathe. 

He gasped, nearly choking on the lungful of air, gulping it in like a drowning man, desperate for it, and slowly, so slowly the black pinprick that his vision had become began to widen outwards, the speckles obscuring his vision fading away one at a time until he could almost see normally.

The porch. He was on the porch in the backyard. It was dark. It was night, it was dark, but the porch light was on, lighting up the wood deck he was sitting on. The crickets were chirping. The moon was in the sky. The stars were out. It was slightly cloudy. There was a soft, slightly cool summer breeze. 

Cool. It was cool. It was cool, it wasn’t hot, it wasn’t too hot, it wasn’t, there was air, he was cool, a little cold, he was sweaty, he was gulping in air, his heart was pounding so hard and so fast he didn’t know how it hadn’t burst out and run away on its own yet, he was breathing, he could see, it was cool, there wasn’t a strap around him keeping him in place, there wasn’t the incredible dryness in his mouth, there wasn’t the burning heat, there wasn’t the dizzying twisting of the world around him, there wasn’t the sharp, stabbing ache in his stomach, there wasn’t the car. 

The back porch. The grass swaying slightly in the soft breeze. The stars sparkling, he wondered if Logan knew their names, he was sure Logan would, Logan knew everything, Logan wasn’t stupid and pathetic and weak like him. 

He choked on the hiccupping sob that climbed out of his throat, as he pulled his knees to his chest, burying his head against them, rocking back and forth, needing to move, to do something, to get the energy out, out, out! 

He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to wake up panicked and unable to breathe, and his chest hurt from it, his ribs pounded, in a way they hadn’t since they’d first been hurt, and it was his own fault because he couldn’t stop gasping in air, even though he knew it was all around him. 

“Patton?” He flinched back, so hard he almost fell over onto his side, squeezing his eyes closed and shaking his head, why was everything too much right now? Nothing was even happening, why did it feel like everything was too much? 

“c-can’t… can’t…” He stuttered, shaking so hard he didn’t know how he wasn’t falling apart. 

“can’t what, baby? What do you need?” Virgil. That was Virgil, soft and soothing, and gentle, he could feel them keeping their distance, giving him space, giving him room. 

“d-don’t… too… too m-much…” He managed, hands digging into his hair, pulling at it. He hissed, almost, as someone took his hands, prying them away from his hair, and he wanted to fight against the touch, he wanted to claw at them, for touching him, but he was too tired, he was so tired, so he didn’t. He folded against the touch, against the hand on his, curling up around them even though the touch was too hot and too much and too warm, he needed something, anything. 

He opened his eyes as he felt someone shift, Roman, he was curled around Roman’s good hand, and Roman had shifted so he was lying down on his side, on the porch, still keeping as far away as he could, mirroring Patton’s own position, looking at him softly.

“Honey. I’m here. We’re here.” Roman murmured, thumb running circles against his knuckles. 

“s too much. Why’s everything… why’s it too much?” He whispered, and Roman let out a soft breath, eyes meeting his. 

“sometimes… sometimes everything just catches up to you all at once. A lot has happened, Patton. It’s not surprising, that it’s hitting you this hard.” He took a deep breath, in and out, relieved as he finally seemed able to breathe, his chest loosening up, and it felt so good, being able to breathe. 

“where’d… where’d virgil go?” He asked smally. He’d probably left. Probably got tired of hearing him whine and cry and be such a baby over nothing. 

“he’ll be right back. He’s making some hot chocolate, ok? He’s just in the kitchen. No one’s leaving, honey. No one’s leaving.” Roman repeated softly, and he sniffled, shifting a bit closer to Roman, not touching him, but close enough he could feel some of his heat. “You wanna talk about it?” He shook his head. He didn’t even know what ‘it’ was, exactly, he had nightmares all the time, he didn’t know why he’d freaked out so much this time, it wasn’t like it was even that scary, not like the basement, not like some of his other memories, the car wasn’t even that bad, he didn’t remember most of it, because he’d gone to sleep. 

“no.” he whispered, and Roman nodded. 

“ok. That’s ok, bud.” 

“I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes against the wash of exhausted sorrow that swept through him. 

“For what, honey? You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“Everything I do is wrong! You’re hurt, and you’re out here lying on the porch instead of getting rest like you need, and it’s not comfy, with your cast. And V-virgil has trouble sleeping, too, and I just make him w-worry, if I was good, I wouldn’t make you worry, I wouldn’t wake up panicking, I wouldn’t c-cry all the time, I wouldn’t be like this, if I weren’t so b-bad maybe someone would actually love me!” Patton had let go of Roman’s hand, sitting up once more and rocking, 

“Patton… we love you. I love you, little prince.” That seemed to make Patton more upset, as he shook his head frantically. 

“no no no No! You d-don’t, you c-can’t, y-you keep saying that, just to be nice, cause you don’t wanna hurt my f-feelings, but you don’t! You don’t, n-no one does, I’m unlovable, I’m n-nothing, I don’t d-deserve to exist!” He yelled, curling tighter, so loud, it’s so loud, so many voices are yelling at him, and he can’t hear his own thoughts. “that’s what everyone s-says, that’s what m-my mom s-said, before she’d b-burn me, I’m not… I… pl-please… I’m sc-scared…” He whimpered, barely able to breathe, he didn’t know where this was coming from, he didn’t know, but it was eating at him, tearing him to pieces, and he was terrified. “I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, pl-please, please…” he gasped out, freezing as an arm came around him, pulling him close, and he broke, burying himself against Roman, sobbing. 

“shh, shhh, I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you, it’s alright. It’s alright, let it out, it’s alright.” Roman murmured, a rumble against Patton’s face as he sobbed, clinging to Roman so tight he was losing feeling in his fingers. 

“don’t let g-go, don’t… pl-please, I’m sorry, I’m s-s-sorry… please…” He cried, and Roman shushed him gently, rocking slowly. 

“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere, I promise, I’m not letting go.” He didn’t move as he heard the backdoor slide open, Virgil coming back outside, making a soft sound at Patton’s upset. 

“Oh, baby.” Virgil murmured, setting down the hot chocolates, kneeling down on the porch beside them. “nightmare was really bad, huh?” He murmured. Patton just nodded, not letting go of Roman. 

“s-sorry.” He mumbled again.

“it’s not a problem, baby.” 

“Why… why’re we outside?” He asked. 

“You were hyperventilating. Sometimes fresh air works like a shock to the system. Figured it would help get you breathing again.” 

“oh. I’m-“ 

“You don’t need to apologize again. It’s ok. It happens sometimes. I have nightmares too. I have panic attacks too. It’s ok to need help. It’s ok.” Virgil answered softly, and Patton sniffled more, shifting from Roman’s lap onto Virgil’s, hugging him tightly, as Virgil rubbed his back, calming him further.

“n-nothing even happened. Why… why am I like this?” he whispered. 

“It’s alright. I know it’s a lot. It’s like I said on your first night, remember? Sometimes little things trigger big reactions, and that’s ok. It’ll get easier, over time, it’ll get easier, to be ok. You’ve been through so much, Pat. You’re so brave, baby.” Virgil answered, though Patton felt anything but brave. 

He let Virgil shift him on his lap, accepting the mug of coco with shaky hands, feeling a bit better as he took a sip. By the time he finished his drink, his eyes were starting to droop. He was aware of Roman gently taking the mug before it slipped from his hands, Virgil humming softly sending him over the edge and back into sleep, feeling almost content.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some (mostly) fluff and soft prinxiety!

Virgil leaned back with a long, deep, exhale, cradling Patton close to his chest, so he could feel his heart beat, knowing the steady rhytm always helped soothe him, when he was overwhelmed. 

“Should have expected a rough night. With all the stress, I should have been prepared for it to boil over.” Virgil mumbled, huffing as Roman leaned against him, nuzzling his hair. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. The only people at fault here are the ones who’ve hurt him. We both know you aren’t one of them.” Virgil took another long breath, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“He feels so much, Ro, so deeply. All those words, all that abuse… it stuck. It stuck deep. I don’t know what it will take to purge it all from his heart, to repair all the damage. I mean… look at me, I’ve had years, and I’m still such a fucking mess.” Roman pressed a kiss to his cheek, turning his face to his. 

“But you’re better. You’re better than you were, at the start. That’s all that matters. I know it doesn’t feel like it, sometimes, but you’ve come so far, and he’s come so far already. You’re both so resilient, it’s so amazing, Virg, it really is, watching you grow. Watching him grow. Baby steps, that’s what Picani always says, right?” Roman asked, and he nodded, letting some of the tension slip from his shoulders. 

“There is… he said some things. About his mother. She told him he was unlovable, nothing, that… he didn’t deserve to exist. She burned him, Virgil. The cigarette burns… they were her. Not… not the fosters.” Virgil inhaled sharply, turning his head so it was resting in the crook of Roman’s neck, trying to keep himself together. 

“What an absolute bitch.” He mumbled, though his voice was spitting with venom. “I don’t understand it, Roman, I don’t, why have a kid if you’re just going to… to hurt them, like that? Or if it’s an accident, why not just give them up right away, why keep them and hurt them? What’s the point?” He felt Roman wrap his arm around his shoulders, rubbing gently. 

“Some people need to hurt others to make themselves feel big, feel important. Some people don’t have any self respect, so they need to make someone just as miserable as they are, and who’s easier to break down than your own child? They’ll believe you, when you tell them things. It’s about control, Virg, I know… I know you know that.” 

“at least mine actually wanted me. At least they… at least I know, that they loved. Took care of me. At least from the little I have left of them, I know that much. I had a foundation, of love, even if it was buried under all of the rest. He’s working from the ground up. From the fact that he knows he was unwanted by the person who made him, what… what kind of sick bullshit is that?” He spat, angry, but too tired to be angry, it came out as more of a resigned question. 

“It’s wrong, and awful, and terrible, but we can undo it, Virg. We already are. Look at him. Just… take a minute and really look at him.” Roman murmured softly, and Virgil peeked out from Roman’s neck, unable to help the soft smile that came to his face, as he looked down at Patton. 

His chest was rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. His face was completely relaxed, eyes closed and unmoving behind their lids, all the lines of worry and fear smoothed out, as he slept. One hand had found its way to his mouth, and he was just barely sucking on his thumb. The other was holding to his sweater, his little fingers a loose fist against him, holding on to make sure he was still there. He was already less thin, less pale, the deep circles under his eyes had faded away to an almost normal level, a sign he was sleeping better. He reached out, brushing back Patton’s hair, smiling as he nuzzled against the touch, shifting so his cheek was laying atop Virgil’s hand, his body relaxing further, completely limp and lax in his arms. He knew how much trust that took, how safe he had to feel, to not only let himself sleep, but let himself sleep so deeply, around other people, out in the open. 

Patton trusted them. Trusted them to protect him from harm, to keep him safe, to not hurt him, trusted them enough that he had completely dropped his guard, putting himself in their hands. 

“we’re doing good, Virg. And he’s doing even better.” Roman said softly, cupping Virgil’s cheek, turning his head to face him, almost overwhelmed, by the raw adoration, the unbearable softness, in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe, as Virgil leaned in, and kissed him, softly and slowly, lingering there, and it took him a long moment to regain his breath. 

“I love you, Virgil. I love you so much, I don’t know even know how to explain it.” He murmured, kissing him again. “I wonder sometimes, if you even know how much I mean it. If you know how with every word, every glance, every touch, you still take my breath away. If you know that every day, I’m falling in love with you a little more.” He could feel Virgil blushing, the heat on his face, and he smiled, pressing a final kiss to his forehead, before pulling back, gently wiping away the tears slipping down Virgil’s face, though he was smiling as well, clearly just… overwhelmed, and not upset. “Should we head inside, dearest?” Virgil nodded, shifting back from Roman a little bit, letting him stand. 

He carefully shifted Patton in his arms, so he was holding him a bit steadier, as he stood, as slowly and evenly as he could, hoping not to disturb him. He’d had a rough night, he needed the rest to recover. But as he stood completely, Patton stirred, eyes blearily blinking open. 

“Was… was happenin?” He slurred, yawning hugely. 

“nothing, baby. Just going back to sleep.” Virgil answered, watching his eyes slowly blink closed. 

“Can I come with? Don wanna be by m’self.” He asked, pressing his face further against Virgil’s chest, both hands coming up to hold his sweater. Virgil smiled fondly, heart absolutely exploding with love. 

“of course, Patton. We’ll get you all tucked in and snuggled up between us, how does that sound?” He asked, knowing Patton was already starting to drift.

“Sounds nice. Thanks, Papa.” Patton mumbled, slipping off again, leaving Virgil sure he was about to implode. 

It was the first time Patton had called him his father. 

He was too tired to process this, he was all flustered and hyper emotional and about to start sobbing again from all of the love and fondness and emotion swelling up inside him. He startled slightly, as Roman gently grabbed his arm, pulling him inside and upstairs, helping settle him in bed, with Patton his arms, before crawling in himself, curling around Patton, his good arm coming to rest against Virgil’s head, gently massaging his scalp. 

“Go to sleep, my love. You’ll feel more sorted out in the morning.” Roman whispered, so as not to wake Patton once more, Virgil’s eyes already closed, practically purring with contentment. Roman laughed silently, watching Virgil fall asleep. Head rubs had always been his husband’s greatest weakness. He absolutely adored it when Roman played with his hair, it was one of the only things that could soothe and calm him when he was on the verge of a panic attack, and it never failed to send him to sleep, if he was already teetering on the brink. 

He yawned himself, curling slightly tighter against Patton, resting his head against Patton’s hair, knowing how contact helped soothe and calm Virgil, when he’d been stressed. 

“I love you. My two brilliant, beautiful boys. I love you so much.” He murmured, closing his eyes and drifting off, content to let his boy’s breathing lull him to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff? Angst? This chapter's got it all.

Roman woke up, with a soft frown, the sense of something wrong filling him. He blinked his eyes open, realizing what the problem was immediately. Virgil was still asleep, curled up on his own side of the bed, but there was an empty space between them, where Patton had been. 

It was late morning, not surprising that they’d slept in, given the late night, and Patton’s spot was still warm, so he must have just gotten up. Maybe he just needed to use the bathroom. Still, now that he was awake, he was up for the day, and he needed to find Patton and make sure he was alright. 

He checked Patton’s room first, seeing no trace of him there, making sure to check under the bed, as well. He paused on his way down the stairs, hearing a low noise from the living room. 

It was the tv, on a low volume, barely audible, and Patton was sitting on the couch, curled up in a blanket, a rabbit plushie held to his chest, face resting atop it. He didn’t seem to be actually watching whatever was on, just staring blankly ahead, idly chewing on the rabbit’s ear, lost in thought. 

“Patton?” He asked softly, the kid not responding, lost deeper in his own head. He furrowed his brow, coming down the rest of the steps, nearer the couch. “Pat?” He asked again, and this time Patton startled, flinching backwards so hard he nearly toppled over the arm of the couch, his arms raised over his head defensively, knees tucked to his chest, making himself as small a target as possible. He took a step back, hands raised in surrender, slowly kneeling. 

“hey. It’s just me, Patton, it’s just Roman. No one’s gonna hurt you.” He murmured, and Patton slowly lowered his hands, letting out a long, shuddering breath, sinking further into the couch. 

“sorry.” He whispered, blanket pulled tight once more. 

“it’s ok, bud. I’m sorry I startled you. Is… everything ok?” He asked, slowly sitting down on the other end of the couch, giving Patton space. 

“yeah. Just woke up and didn’t wanna wake you guys. You looked so quiet and nice.” Patton mumbled back, and Roman hmed, glancing at him.

“You know, you looked so quiet and nice last night, too. Cuddled up against Virgil and me.” That seemed to make Patton sink down further. 

“I called Virgil Papa. And… and when I was sleepy before, I called you dad, didn’t I?” Patton asked, and Roman nodded, getting an idea, now, of where this was going. “I d-didn’t mean to. I d-didn’t… I know, you aren’t my d-dads. I don’t know why I s-said that, I shouldn’t have c-called you that.” 

“Patton. You know we’re adopting you?” He asked, gently reminding him, and Patton nodded. “And you know we love you. And we… I… consider you my son. You’re my baby boy, Patton. Neither of us will be upset, if you want to call us your dad, or papa. It… it makes me happy, when you say that, because it means you feel safe, and at home, and loved. It tells me you’re trusting us, and that means the world to me. You don’t have to call us that, of course. Only if and when you want to. But you never have to be afraid, to call us that. We will never be angry.” He murmured softly, reaching out slowly, rewarded as Patton shifted closer, though he still wasn’t touching him. 

“I never had a dad before.” Patton said softly. “What… what are dads like?” Roman paused at the question, staring off in thought. 

“Well… dads are there to make sure you’re safe. And make sure you feel safe. They protect you from harm. They tell silly stories, or make bad jokes, like puns. They’re always there for you, no matter what you need, they will do their best to give it, whether it’s space, or comfort or company. They take care of you, and they will do anything, to hear you laugh, to make you smile, they support you on good days and bad days. They tend to your wounds, both physical and mental, and help ease any hurt they can. They love you. No matter what, they love you.” He watched Patton contemplating his words, glancing at him briefly, before looking away again. 

“oh.” Patton said softly, hugging his stuffed animal. Roman waited patiently, for Patton to say something. “so… what are moms… what are they…” He couldn’t manage to finish the question, and Roman let out a soft, long breath. 

“moms are supposed to do the same things dads do. They’re supposed to love you, no matter what, and protect you, and cheer you up when your sad, and kiss your owies away, and give you snacks after school, and read you bedtime stories and tuck you in at night. Make sure you’re eating enough, and make you soup when you’re sick, and fuss over you until you feel better.” 

“my mother never did that.” Patton whispered. “She never seemed to c-care if I was hurt or sick. I deserved it. Wh-when she hurt me, or y-yelled.” He fiddled with the ears of his rabbit, and Roman wanted nothing more than to pull him into his arms, but knew that Patton wasn’t ready for that. 

“but… but you do.” Patton whispered, glancing up at Roman once more, before looking shyly away. “you and Virgil. But neither of you are a mom.” 

“Is that… is that bad? That neither of us are a mom?” Roman asked, a slight sinking feeling in his chest, that was chased away as Patton quickly shook his head. 

“no. I don’t think I want another mom. I think… I think you both do a better job than any parent I’ve ever had. I think I like having two dads. A lot.” Patton choked out, and Roman opened his arms, Patton immediately falling into them, crying softly. 

“Oh, honey. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go.” He murmured, feeling Patton shake against him. 

“I know. I kn-ow… d-dad.”  
…  
Virgil came downstairs, smiling as he heard Patton speaking slowly, realizing as he came farther down he was sitting on Roman’s lap, reading a small chapter book, Magic Treehouse, and doing rather well at it, Roman helping occasionally with a word or two. He was a fast learner, probably due to his curiosity. He wanted to know about everything, so of course he wanted to learn how to read. 

He paused, content to watch them, listen, the way Patton’s nose scrunched up when he focused, the light in his eyes when he sounded out a more complicated word, the bright… happiness, that surrounded him. And Roman was just as radiant, smiling adoringly down at Patton, the warmth in his eyes, on his face so breathtaking.

Then Roman looked up, spotting him, his smile only growing gentler. The shift caught Patton’s attention, who he realized now was wearing his glasses, and Patton smiled, jumping to his feet and running over to him, hugging him around his waist. 

“hi, papa.” Patton mumbled, peeking up at him with a tentative, half afraid look, no doubt worried about being rejected or told off. 

“Hi, baby.” He replied, scooping him up into his arms, nuzzling his nose, making Patton laugh, burying his face against Virgil’s neck. “having a good morning?” He asked, raising a brow at Roman, who moved his hand like it was riding a wave. A bit of a rollercoaster, then. But everything seemed alright now. 

“Uh huh. Dad’s helping me read.” He murmured. 

“You’re doing most of the reading, Patton. You’ve caught on really fast.” Roman replied, making Patton blush, pressing closer against Virgil to further hide his face. 

“Have you two eaten anything yet, today?” Virgil asked, bouncing Patton somewhat, smiling at the little giggle it got from Patton. 

“Nuh. Got distracted.” Patton mumbled, flushing more as his stomach rumbled. Virgil grinned, cradling him in his arms, tickling his stomach. 

“Are you secretly a baby bear?” He asked, Patton laughing, lightly batting his hands away. 

“No!” Patton protested, still laughing, as Virgil flopped on the couch, Patton on his chest. 

“Are you sure? Cause that was a fierce little grumble!” Roman asked, rolling his eyes as Virgil rested his legs over his lap, Patton sitting up on Virgil’s chest. 

“I’m not a bear! But bears are cute. They’re so fluffy. I should ask Logan about bears. He probably knows all about em. Do you think bears can be pets?” Patton asked, laughing at the quick chorus of no’s the question got. 

“Before bear, you should probably start with something simpler.” Virgil replied, Patton’s eyes widening. 

“Like a dog? I’ve always wanted a dog. Or a cat, or a hamster, or a rabbit, or a pony, or a ferret…” 

“It sounds like anything soft and fluffy.” Roman mused, causing Patton to nod vigoriously. 

“I had thought of that.” Roman replied. “Getting an animal. I know you love animals, and I think you’d take really good care of one. What? They’re known to help with anxiety and depression, Virgil, so really, we should have already gotten you an emotional support possum, or something.” Virgil splutter, trying to hide his smile. 

“Possum? Why do I get a possum?” 

“They eat junk food, they’re up all night, and they scream when startled.” Roman rattled off, and Virgil narrowed his eyes.

“You’ve thought about this way too much.” 

“Really? Could I… could I really get a dog?” Patton asked, eyes distant and dreamy, clearly having lost interest in their conversation as soon as the possibility was mentioned. Virgil sighed. 

“I suppose we can look into it. We have enough space, and the backyard is already fenced in. But we’re waiting at least until you have that cast off your arm, Roman. I don’t want to be wrangling a dog and your whiny highness all at the same time.” Virgil answered, booping Roman’s nose, smiling as he turned his head to catch his lips in a soft kiss. 

“Alright. We’ll have to do some research, Patton, so we know what kind of dog would be the best fit for us.” 

“Really? We really can? We’re really gonna get a pupper?” Patton asked, a giant, soft grin spreading across his face. 

“We really, really are.” Virgil answered, Patton launching himself into their laps, doing his best to hug them both. 

“thank you, thank you, thank you!” Roman rubbed his back, kissing the top of his head. 

“Of course, pipsqueak. Now, let’s get some food before that bear comes out again.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy 2: Electric Boogaloo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting some motivation back on track, for these projects of mine.

“So. I know things have been a little difficult, since our last appointment.” He snorted, difficult was a bit of an understatement, given that their last appointment had ended with him in the lobby learning that Roman had been T-boned by a drunk driver, but Emile chose to ignore him and continue. “But how are you?” He flipped the little switch on the fidget cube back and forth a couple times. 

“Tired.” He let out a low breath, glancing up at Picani, a small half smile on his lips, that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not that anything’s new there.” 

“Physically, or emotionally?” He shakes his head, pressing down buttons on the cube. 

“Both, I guess. I love him, but Princey is terrible at bedrest. It’s like trying to keep a puppy from getting into the trash, every time I turn around he’s trying to do something he’s not supposed to. It’s starting to get on both of our nerves, a bit. And we’re trying, to not let it get to us, but it is, and Patton can sense that extra little tension, and it’s making him nervous, and he’s still on edge from the accident itself. He’s having nightmares. And I’m having nightmares. And Roman just can’t get comfortable, his ribs hurt too much, even with the pain meds. It’s just… a mess, right now. Everyone’s a mess.” He raked a hand through his hair, idly turning the cube in his hand. “I’m a mess.” 

“Virgil. No one is perfect, much less one hundred percent of the time. You all need time, to recover and heal, not just Roman. He may be the one who suffered physical trauma, but the event had a huge mental impact on you, as well. It will take time, to recover from it.” 

“I know. I know, I just…” He trailed off, taking another shaky breath. “you know how my mind works. Always bracing for the worst possible situation, no matter how unlikely I know it actually is. And I can’t stop thinking… I can’t stop seeing…” Picani leaned forwards, resting a grounding hand on Virgil’s knee, concerned to feel him trembling. 

“Deep breaths, Virgil. In and out. It’s ok. Take your time.” He murmured gently, Virgil nodding, closing his eyes and taking a few long breaths, counting silently. 

“what if I’d lost him?” He whispered, pulling his knees to his chest, hugging them tight. “What if it wasn’t ok? What if the car hit the driver’s side dead on, what if the EMTs got there, and there was nothing they could do, and he bled out before they could get him to the hospital? What if he died on impact, just a flash, and it was over? What if something went wrong in the operating room, and he flatlined? What if they’d been wrong, and he’d fallen into a coma, and he’d kept breathing, but gone brain dead, what if I had to make the choice to pull the plug, what if I’d had to decide whether or not to kill Roman, even though it wouldn’t really be Roman, anymore, just an empty body that looked like him? What if something else happens, what if another accident goes down, except this time he’s not that lucky, what if he dies?” He was almost hyperventilating again, he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, trying to quell the tears spilling out. “what if I lose him? I can’t… I just can’t!” 

“Oh, Virgil. Can I hug you?” Physical affection of that magnitude was not something Emile often offered during sessions, it was best to keep some distance, to stay clearheaded, but he’d known Virgil for so long, he knew that physical comfort was needed, here. 

“yes.” Came the hoarse response, and he wrapped Virgil in a tight hug, feeling Virgil’s breathing starting to steady at the pressure, his gasping subsiding into normal breaths, and after a few moments, he pulled away, slipping back into his own chair. 

“I can’t do this without him. I couldn’t before, and gods know I wouldn’t be able to now. I don’t know what I would do. I don’t know how I would pull myself together enough to even take care of myself, much less Patton. I wouldn’t be able to take care of Patton, and he’d end up back in the system, and that would kill me, that would shatter me, I can’t lose them.” 

“Virgil. There is no reason to believe that anything is going to happen to either of them, anytime soon.” Virgil let out a strangled laugh. 

“There was no reason to believe Roman would get hit by a fucking car!” He shouted, voice cracking, scrubbing at the tears flooding down his face. 

“Alright. That is true. But think about this, what is the statistics on someone getting hit by a drunk driver? The odds are fairly low, I’d think. Now, what are the odds of someone getting hit twice? What are the odds of a perfectly healthy middle aged man with no other health conditions dying suddenly? Incredibly rare, not impossible, of course, but very little in this world actually is.  
And I know how overwhelming the thought of losing someone whom you’re as close to as Roman is, but I think you’re underestimating your own strength. Because in the incredibly unlikely event that something did happen to Roman, I don’t believe you’d break. You would hurt, and mourn, but you would fight tooth and nail to keep this progress forwards you’ve made, and to protect Patton from the worst of it.  
That’s who you are, Virgil. You’re a protector. You’re determined to keep anyone from being hurt, no matter the cost to yourself. It’s one of your best and worst qualities.” Picani finished, leaning back in his chair, watching Virgil turn over what had been said, proud to see him doing his counting exercise, to help calm himself. 

“I…” Virgil took another deep breath, slumping into his seat. “ok. That… that does help.” He mumbled, shoving back his hair, letting out a low breath. 

“That’s been weighing you down. Do you feel better, now, getting that off your chest?” He bit his lip, before nodding again. He looked better, Picani could tell. The stiff tension from his shoulders was gone, his eyes were lighter, despite his smeared eyeshadow and tear streaks. 

“yeah. I didn’t realize… how much that was eating at me. It felt good, to just… I dunno, explode, I guess.” He mumbled, feeling like he could breathe for the first time in a week. 

“Is there anything else, you would like to talk about?” Virgil tilted his head, a small wry smile on his face. 

“I think I’ve been bamboozled into getting a dog.” Emile chuckled at that, pushing up his glasses. “I’ve talked them into waiting until Roman has his cast off, at least, but that’s only two more weeks, hopefully. And not a puppy. Something already house trained with enough energy to entertain them, but not enough to chew everything to shreds. Roman breaks enough stuff already.” Emile smiled again at that, at the lighter tone to Virgil’s voice.

“I’ll make sure to bring that up. I’m sure Patton is thrilled.” 

“More than anything. He’s been wearing his glasses almost all the time around the house. He’s a little more hesitant if we go out, somewhere, like the park, he’s still afraid of something happening to them and getting in trouble, but still, it’s already so much farther than I expected. Him and Remus have a playdate tomorrow, to do makeovers, and it scares me a little that of the two of them, I trust Patton more than I do Remus.” 

“He took to Remus quickly, didn’t he?” Emile asked, and Virgil smiled, nodding. 

“He’s so good with him. It’s like he knows just what to say or how to act to make him relax. He’s the only adult besides me and Ro that I’ve ever seen him relaxed around. And he and Logan had another play date at the park, too. It’s almost comical, Patton trying to teach Logan how to just… play. I’ve never seen someone so utterly confused about ‘the floor is lava’ in my life.” 

“It sounds like he’s starting to form a very solid foundation for his support network. Speaking of, unless there’s something else pressing, it looks like it’s time to swap out.” Virgil groaned as he stood, stretching, sore from being all curled up on the chair, though he felt so much lighter. 

“Alright. Let’s go find the pipsqueak.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy for the baby!

Patton looked up at the soft sound of a door opening, tensing up slightly, frown staying as he saw Virgil, his makeup more smudged than usual, clear tracks down his face. But Virgil smiled, when he saw him, scooping him up in his arms and nuzzling against him, surprising a giggle out of him, before he pushed back, frown returning. 

“were you crying, Papa?” he asked quietly, Virgil letting out a soft puff of breath. 

“yeah, a little. But I’m alright now, ok?” 

“was it cause you got hurt?” He asked, glancing a tad accusingly at Picani, who was hanging back in the hallway, but gave a little wave at his gaze. 

“No, baby. I promise. I just had a lot of emotions that needed to get out, and Emile helped me talk and work my way through them, so they didn’t all bottle up inside. He would never and will never hurt you. Do you believe me?” Virgil asked seriously, meeting his eyes. After a moment of consideration, he nodded. 

“uh huh.” 

“Then it’s your turn, pipsqueak, if you still want to, that is.” He nodded again as Virgil set him down, turning and giving Roman a quick hug, from where he was sitting in one of the waiting room couches, before striding determinedly over to Picani. Virgil watched them go, turning into Emile’s office, before letting out a deep sigh, leaning against Roman, face resting in the crook of his neck. 

“Are you alright, darling?” Roman murmured, wrapping an arm around Virgil’s shoulders, rubbing small circles against his shoulder. 

“I… think so. Just tired out, I suppose. It was… emotional.” Roman hummed, turning his head to kiss Virgil’s forehead. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. He knew it was enough to be here, right now, offering his silent support, Virgil leaning into him with a soft sigh.

“I love you, Ro.” Virgil mumbled, and he brushed another soft kiss against Virgil’s cheek. 

“Always and forever, dear heart.”   
…

Patton hummed as he slid onto the chair, after quickly grabbing the same stuffed rabbit he’d held onto last time, tucking it under his arm. 

“Here we go.” Emile murmured, pulling out the binder and setting it on the table before Patton. “Take your time, and pick whichever one you want.” He hummed again, looking them over, before settling on one of Penny hugging a happy looking Bolt. 

“Ah, Bolt. Bit of a less popular Disney movie, but it does have quite the cast of characters. Have you seen it?” He shook his head, frowning slightly as he looked at the pin. 

“Well, I’m sure Roman has it somewhere. I think you’d quite like it. It involves a group of animals becoming a found family.” He frowned again, glancing up at Picani. 

“What’s that mean?” He asked softly. 

“Found family? Well, think of it this way. There are people you are related to by blood, like your mother or father. Then there are people you’re related to by choice, like Roman and Virgil. Found family is people who aren’t related by blood choosing to be together, because they love each other and want to support one another.” 

“oh.” He mumbled, fiddling with the pin. “I picked it cause they look happy.” 

“are you happy, Patton?” He put the pin in his pocket, squeezing the rabbit tight to his chest. 

“yeah.” He answered softly.

“Patton. This is a safe space, to talk about whatever is on your mind. I won’t push you to say anything you don’t want to, but it seems like there’s something on your mind.” 

“I’ve started calling them Dad and Papa.” He blurted out, not sure why saying that to someone else made his heart race. 

“Alright. Is that what you feel they are to you?” He nodded again. 

“yeah.” He took another breath, fiddling with the rabbit’s ears. “they make me feel safe. Even… even when I’m scared of them, I know that they’re safe.” Emile hummed, leaning back. 

“Have you been scared of them recently?” He blushed slightly, hesitating. 

“I… don’t know. It feels like… it feels how it did before a big fight. Before there would be y-yelling and h-hitting and… and b-ad things. But they don’t do that. When they’re mad or annoyed, they just ignore each other or… or get a little sn-snappy, when they t-talk. Even when they f-fight it’s not like… like that. But it still feels like it will turn into that, any second. And I don’t know what to d-do, to keep it from exploding.” 

“Patton. It’s important to remember, neither of them are truly angry at the other, even when they do snap at each other.” He looked up, biting his lip. 

“They aren’t?” 

“No. I know it seems like it, but they’re not mad. They show their concern for each other by frequently checking in with the other, by fussing over each other, and sometimes that much attention can get to be too much. When one of them snaps like that, it’s a verbal warning that they need some space. And once they give each other that space, they’re both calmer, aren’t they?” He nods, shoulder relaxing just a tad. 

“yeah.” 

“And even when they are a bit short tempered, they’ve never lashed out at you, physically or vocally?” He shook his head, uncurling just a bit. 

“no. They’re good. They… um… they let me play with Logan, yesterday. I’ve never been allowed to have playdates before. I’ve never really had a… a friend, before. Not a real one, anyways, not like Logan.” It was a change of topic, but Emile allowed it, folding his legs. 

“What do you mean, by real friends?” 

“Well, I’ve had friends, before. People I played with, at school, or in the homes. But I wasn’t really anywhere for very long, and I didn’t really know anyone, or was close, with anyone. And… and I’m small. Which means I’m easy to pick on. Even the people I played with, would pick on me. But Logan’s not like that. He wouldn’t pick on me, no matter how stupid I am. And we teach each other stuff. Like, he taught me all about volcanos, yesterday, and I taught him ‘the floor is lava’! It’s fun. I just… I don’t want him to get sick of me, and tell me to leave him alone.” 

“Is that likely, in your opinion?” He bit the inside of his cheek. 

“it’s what always happens. People get tired of me, and tell me to go away.” 

“Have you considered that you may also be Logan’s first real friend?” He froze, blinking in bewilderment, looking up at Emile, who smiled fondly. “People aren’t often a fan of someone or something that is different from them. It takes a special kind of person to look past all those differences and see who someone is on the inside. I think you’re one of those people, Patton, and Logan is another. I think you’re both a bit different, and that’s why you mesh together so well.   
True friends, real friends, don’t just get tired of each other. Don’t just give up on each other or leave. They stick by each other even when things are hard, or scary. Even when they fight, or argue, they apologize and make up. And it’s ok, to argue with each other, to get angry at one another, to disagree with each other.   
What isn’t normal is the violence you expect to follow such conflicts. Because real friends, real family, never purposefully hurt each other like that. Would you ever hit Logan?” He shook his head vehemently, so fast his glasses slipped down his nose and he had to push them back up, eyes wide. 

“no. Never ever!” 

“Exactly. And Logan would never hit you. And Virgil would never hit Roman. And Roman would never hit Virgil. And neither Roman nor Virgil would ever hit you.  
That is what family is, Patton. What it always should be. That is what you have, with the people you’re now surrounded by. And none of them are going to let you go.” He buried his face in the stuffed rabbit, realizing tears were streaming down his face, something shaken loose at Picani’s words, an anxiety that had been building in his stomach that he hadn’t realized was there fading away. 

“I… I l-love them. I dunno the l-last time I c-cared, so m-much.” 

“Patton. I know that it’s scary, caring. I know that makes you feel vulnerable, it makes it easier to get hurt, because you care so deeply. But caring isn’t a bad thing. It means you’re feeling safer, it means you’re starting to know, with both your heart and your head, that you are home.  
I know it’s been difficult, recently, with Roman’s accident, but he’s stubborn. He would never let anything stop him from coming home to you, Patton. Neither of them would. They love you with all their hearts, I can promise you that.” He let out another small sniffle, wiping away his tears with the ears of the rabbit, before Picani passed him the tissue box, and he blew his nose, wiping his face. 

“I don’t wanna lose them.” He whispered. 

“I know. And sometimes life is unpredictable, and things happen suddenly, and I know that isn’t comforting. But good things are just as likely to happen as bad things. And if you’re always looking ahead, waiting for the next bad thing to happen, you’re going to miss all the good happening all around you. In those moments, where you feel yourself getting stuck, looking for bad, I want you to do something, for me.   
Just take a deep breath, and look around. Look around, wherever you are, and find something that makes you smile, that makes you happy, no matter how big or small it is. Then find something else, and something else, like a game of I Spy of positivity. And eventually, all the small happy things will outweigh the maybe bad things that could be coming. Can you do that?” Emile asked. 

“yeah. I’ll… try.” 

“Ok. I’m sure Virgil and Roman will be able to help, too, if you want to tell them about this I Spy. I get the feeling Roman would be very good at it.” He giggled slightly, sniffling away the last of his tears. 

“yeah. He’s good at cheering me up.” 

“I’d imagine. He’s good at cheering up Virgil, too. Speaking of, shall we go find them?” Emile asked, and Patton nodded, sliding out of his chair, once again kissing the stuffed rabbit goodbye, before following Emile out of the office and down the hall. 

He lit up as he saw Roman and Virgil, still there, waiting for him, a part of him always expected them to have left, them to be gone, but they weren’t. He ran over to them, giggling as Roman instantly scooped him up into his arms, spinning around with him.

“Hello, my little ray of sunshine. How are we feeling?” He shrugged, wrapping his arms around Roman’s neck, hiding his face against his chest. 

“A lot. But better, I think.” He answered, feeling Virgil hug them from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, and it felt so good, this warmth, so safe and good and warm, it was definitely his first good thing, for his I Spy. 

“That’s good, baby. Let’s get the two of you home, hmm? I think it might be nap time, for the both of you. Maybe me too, actually.” Virgil added as he yawned himself, getting another small laugh out of Patton, as Roman shifted him into his arms instead, so he’d have his good arm free for walking, for balance. 

“M’kay.” Patton mumbled, snuggling against Virgil, half asleep by the time they got down to the car, Virgil buckling him in. He didn’t remember getting home, just being held close to warmth, to safety, as he dozed.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus kidnaps the child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my slow going. I've just been really tired lately, and it's making it hard to write anything. I promise everything is still being worked on, and I will finish Mortals and Fae one of these days.

“MORNING FREAKS AND GEEKS!” Patton jumped, at the loud sound of the door banging open, relaxing as he recognized the voice, giggling as Roman muttered something under his breath, and Virgil rolled his eyes, trying to recover from his own startle. 

“Remus, we have two very surprisable beings in here, may don’t break the door down?” Roman called back, brows raising as Remus swaggered in pulling what looked like a fancy rolling suitcase behind him. 

Patton hadn’t even noticed that, though. He was caught up in whatever it was Remus was wearing. 

There was a striped green tee, and under it some kind of lacy black shirt, that went down his arms and had thumb holes in it. Then he was wearing a knee length pleated skirt, patterned in plaid of deep green, black, and thin neon stripes, all of it slightly shimmery. More fishnet covered his legs, and he wore black platform boots with silver rivets and neon green laces. 

“wow” slipped from his lips quietly, and he flushed as all the attention turned back to him. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, it seemed as if they had all been good naturedly squabbling with each other. 

“Wow indeed, my minute nephew! Like what you see?” Remus asked, grinning as he did a twirl, the skirt flaring out and sparkling, making his eyes wide. He couldn’t seem to find words, so he just nodded enthusiastically, making Remus’s eyes crinkle softly, some of that warmth he was starting to get used to seeing, when people looked at him, creeping onto his face. 

“Good. Cause I am taking you shopping, and you’re going to pick out something you like, all. For. Your. Self.” Remus said, punctuating each word with a gentle boop of his nose.

“Shopping?” he asked, confused. It had only been a few weeks since he’d moved in, here, they’d practically just been shopping for everything he could ever need. Remus just nodded solemnly. 

“Shopping. You can’t do a makeover without any clothes!” His nose crinkled. 

“I have clothes!” He protested, and Remus shot him another dazzling grin. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty. But nothing flashy. Nothing like this! That’s what makeovers are about, kid, expressing your own style, your own way. Even if it’s something weird or cool or not appropriate to wear out in public,” Remus ducked an exasperated swat from Roman, not breaking eye contact with Patton, “it’s something that makes you feel wonderful and confident and beautiful. What do you say kid, you wanna give it a go?” Remus asked, gently, holding out his hand. 

Briefly, his eyes flickered to Virgil, who just shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. Roman huffed, bumping Virgil’s shoulder lightly. 

“It’s alright, honey. Go on, have fun.” And that little encouragement was all he needed to tentatively take Remus’s hand, who’s face was once again filled with that strange warmth. 

“Alright. You need to grab anything, before we go?” He hopped out of his seat, eyes wide. 

“My glasses case!” 

“Well, go on, I’ll be waiting right here.” Remus answered, giving him a little push towards the stairs, getting a small laugh in return, as Patton scrambled up them, his expression softening as Roman rested a hand on his shoulder. 

“Thank you. For doing this.” He just rolled his eyes, lightly shoving Roman off. 

“Whatever, bro. I’m just getting him warmed up to me so I can steal him and have that cute little face all to myself.” Virgil snorted, any other banter ending as Patton came barreling back down the stairs, his purse around his shoulder and his glasses firmly on his face. 

“Ready!” 

“Alrighty, then! Off we go!” He made an airplane noise, scooping Patton up into his arms and doing a couple laps of the room at a jog, making the kid breathless with laughter, and oh, that was not something he was going to get sick of, anytime soon, before darting out the door with him. 

“What are the odds we ever see our son again?” Roman asked, flopping back onto the couch, chuckling slightly as Virgil quickly flopped down, directly atop him, head pressed against his chest. 

“I’d say high, but I like to think Jan would stop him.” Came the muffled reply. 

“Jan would forge the documents to make it legal.” He countered, making Virgil snort. 

“That’s why I said I’d like to think. I don’t actually do.” Roman laughed again, smiling fondly down at the top of his husband’s head, shifting his good arm so it was around his back.

They could both use this quiet time. Lord knows when Remus returned there wouldn’t be any to be found.  
…  
Patton tapped his foot, glancing around the car curiously. Remus had said not to tell his parents, and let him sit in the front seat. There was a little scented pine tree hanging from the mirror, and the dash was peppered with stickers, things from logos to ones he recognized from bananas. Otherwise, it was spotless. 

“Jan makes sure I keep it clean in here, or he cleans up after me. He’s a biiiiit of a neat freak.” He frowned a bit at that, as Remus continued driving down the road. He still wasn’t sure he liked Janus, he’d only really met him that once, but still. 

“oh. Um. Where are we going?” He asked, realizing they weren’t going in the direction of the mall. 

“It’s a little boutique shop. They’ve got waaaay cooler stuff than all those bland vanilla stores in the mall. It’s where I got this stuff, but they have a ton of stuff, so I’m sure we’ll find something. And if we don’t, I’ve got a couple other ideas. Plus, there’s a pretty good ice cream place nearby.” He answered, with a little wink. 

That sounded nice. And he was pretty curious about wherever Remus had gotten his clothes from.

“So, my bro treatin you right?” Remus asked, and he tilted his head in confusion. 

“Yes?”

“just trying to make small talk, kid, I know Ro loves you more than anything.” He blushed, at that, hiding his face by looking out the window. Remus frowns slightly, looking over at him.

“You do know that, right?” He takes a shaky breath.

“Sometimes. A… a lot of the time. But it doesn’t… seem real, sometimes.” He mumbled, looking up as Remus lightly ruffled his hair.

“And that’s ok, kid. It’s not easy, being loved after so long of only having what you were told was love and wasn’t.   
And hey. If you ever are scared for any reason that you don’t wanna talk about with them, you can always call me, ok?” 

“I can?” Remus flashed him another soft smile.

“of course you can! No matter what it is, ok? Even if you’re just lonely and want someone else to talk to. You can call any day, anytime.” 

“…why?” 

“Oh, kid, cause you need more people in your life you can trust, people who love you, and will protect you, and if you’ll have me, I want to be one of them.” He swallowed hard, blinking his eyes to clear the sudden wetness there.

“ok.” He whispered, still unable to meet Remus's eyes, gaze just flicking across his face quickly, unable to process the sincerity there. 

“ok, kid. Thank you, so much, for trusting me. I know it isn’t easy.” 

“you’re all so… nice. I don’t get it, still, how you’re all so nice.” He startled slightly at Remus's hand tilting his head to meet his eyes, he hadn’t realized the car had stopped moving.

“Because you deserve it. You deserve all the good, lovely things in the world, Patton, and we, I, am determined to give them to you.” The intensity in his voice took his breath away, and he felt frozen, as Remus smiled softly, leaning closer when he didn’t pull away, resting their foreheads together. “You deserve the world, kid, and imma make sure you get it.”

He surprised even himself, a bit, as Remus pulled back and he followed, easily slipping over the armrest and tumbling into Remus's lap, hugging him tightly. After barely a second, Remus's arms came around him, squeezing him tight, Remus curling over him slightly, completely engulfing him. It was so warm, it was so safe and warm, he didn’t understand how Remus made him feel so… warm. He gasped as Remus squeezed just a little tighter, and suddenly tears were flooding down his face, because it was so warm, safe, soft, perfect, warmsafesoftwarmsafesoft-

“Pat… god, kid, you’re makin me go so soft.” He laughed wetly at that, not moving as Remus carded a hand through his hair, flooding his senses in more of that warm safe soft that had him nuzzling further against Remus. His top was really soft, and if felt so good against his cheek. “We can stay like this as long as you want, ok? Just let me know when you’re ready to move.” 

“S-sorry.” 

“Shh, no, baby, there’s nothing to be sorry about. You get all those feelings out, ok? We can spend all day just sittin here, if you want. I’m happy to just spend the time with you, however you like.” 

Patton didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but it just felt so good, Remus still curled around him, his hand in his hair, squeezing him just the perfect amount, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this completely protected. He didn’t know what about Remus always made him so sure he was so totally protected. 

Eventually, he sniffled, pulling back and scrubbing at his eyes, wiping away the tears, a small little smile on his face that had Remus just melting inside. 

“I’m ready now, I think.”

“Alright, little nephew, let’s get to it, then!”   
…  
His eyes widened as they walked into the store. It was less glittery than Claire's, more… shimmery.

There was soft ambient music playing, something energetic and in a flowing, sibilant language. Mannequins were dressed in everything from dark punk rock riveted clothing to flowing saris and corsetted dresses. 

“wow" he mumbled, looking up at Remus's chuckle.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in. Almost as extra as the bastard who runs the place!” he called into the store, before wincing. “don’t tell you dads I said that.”

Before he could respond, he heard a loud thump, muffled muttering, then a man popped up from under the counter at the back of the store.

“Shut up, babes, you know I get all hot and bothered when you talk dirty like that.” The man snarked, sipping from a coffee cup, looking over his dark glasses in a judgmental stare, though a smile tugged at his lips. Patton’s eyes widened, realizing he knew him.

“Careful now, Remy, innocent little baby ears.” He giggled as Remus pointed down at him, Remy's eyes widening.

“Patton? Did Remus kidnap you? It’s ok, tell me the truth. I know he’s adorable and all, but you can’t just steal your brother’s child.” Patton’s cheeks reddened slightly at the adorable part, and he shifted closer to Remus.

“Easy, Rem, don’t overwhelm the lil guy. And I’ve stolen him for the day, with the promise of makeovers and ice cream.” Remy smiled, rapping his knuckles against the counter.

“Well, I can certainly help with the first half. What are you looking for, kid?” He blinked, mind whirling. 

“You broke him. Good job, Remington.” 

“You own this place?” He blurted, realizing how rude it sounded, but before he could apologize, Remy chuckled. 

“Yeah, I do. It’s my own little start up project. Now, I believe we were talking makeovers. What are you lookin for, kid?” Remy answered, cracking his knuckles. Patton’s s mind stalled. 

“Um. I don’t… know?” He squeaked out, and Remy smiled kindly, crouching so he was at his height. Patton didn’t realize he’d been tensing up, until Remy did that and his shoulders relaxed, his grip on Remus’s shirt slackening.

“Alright, sorry. Let’s try this. Would you say blue’s your favorite color?” Remy asked gently, and he bit his lip, nodding. “Good, ok, I can work with that. And sparkles, I’m guessing?” He nodded again. “Alright. Let’s start you over here, then, mkay? Feel free to touch, you wanna make sure whatever you pick feels good, and there’s changing rooms over there, if you wanna try anything on. I’ll be in the back, if you two need help with anything.” Remy led them over to a section, flashing them a smile before vanishing into the small back room with a wink. 

“Well? You heard the man, go on.” Remus said softly, giving him a gentle push towards the rack. He reached out, hesitating before touching the fabric. 

“It all seems so expensive.” He mumbled, careful as he pushed aside a hanger with a frilly dress. 

“Don’t you worry about that, kid. Anything in here, I can afford. That isn’t a problem. Just find something you like, ok? That’s all you gotta worry about.” He bit his lip, but nodded, going back to slowly going through the racks of clothes, which seemed to be sorted purely by color. 

He stopped as his hand touched something soft and silky. It was a skirt, knee length with an elastic waist band. The top was a deep blue, like the night sky, the color gradually lightening until it was a soft teal at the bottom. Patterned across it was white circles, small lines dotted between them, and he realized they were supposed to be stars, which is when he realized the best part.   
It lit up.   
There were little push buttons on the inside, that the thin wired fairy lights could go through, so you could make your own constellations with the lights on the skirt. Hesitantly, hands shaking, he took it off the rack, walking over to where Remus was looking at a different rack, humming to himself.

He shouldn’t be this scared. He knew he shouldn’t. But he’d chosen a skirt, and he loved it so much, and if Remus said no or made fun of him for it, he knew that he’d fall apart and he couldn’t bear to be told to put it back. 

“R… Ree?” He asked, voice trembling, as Remus turned to look at him, his eyes softening as he saw him standing there, shaking, skirt clutched to his chest. Gods, he was so tiny, and so afraid, and it melted him completely. He was sure Patton could ask him for the universe and he’d find a way to give it to him. 

“Hey, kiddo. You like that one?” Patton nodded, looking close to tears, and he knelt down, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Ok. That’s perfect, Pat, ok? I think it’s perfect.” Patton practically sagged in relief, nearly falling over as his legs gave out, Remus catching him, pulling him close. “It’s alright, kid. It’s alright, Pat.” He murmured, rubbing Patton’s back, who pressed closer into his arms, before drawing back. “You ok?” 

“Uh huh.” He whispered, still shaky, but he was smiling, enough that it eased the tension in Remus, as he smiled back. 

“Good. Here, what do you think of this?” Remus asked, pulling out the top he’d found. It was a light baby blue, that matched the middle of Patton’s skirt. It was a solid silky material inside, and the outside was covered in subtle lacy patterns of leaves and flowers. Patton’s eyes widened as he reached out to feel, letting out a long breath. 

“It’s good.” He murmured, still slightly unsure of himself. 

“Yeah? You wanna go try these on, kid?” He nodded, carefully taking the top from Remus, slipping a hand into his, as they cross the store to the changing rooms. 

He took a deep breath as he got inside, swapping out his clothes for the skirt and top, looking at his reflection in the full length mirror, slightly stricken and starry eyed. Hesitantly, he swayed slightly, watching the skirt swish. He did a small spin, watching the skirt flare out, loving how it moved. He was told time and time again, it had been literally beat into his head, that skirts are for girls, dresses are for girls, lace is for girls, grow up, Patton, stop being such a baby, such a little bitch. 

He shivered, at the memory of the voices, the insults, the pain, nearly jumping out of his skin at a soft knock on the door. 

“Patton? You ok?” He took another deep breath, smoothing down the skirt, steeling his resolve, shoving the memories away. 

He wasn’t there anymore. He wasn’t with them anymore. 

He was with Remus. Remus would never say those things. Remus would never hurt him. Remus liked skirts and dresses, too. He pushed up his glasses and opened the door. 

“yeah. I… I want them.” He stated, voice firm, though it trembled slightly, rewarded by a soft smile from Remus, who pulled him into a gentle half hug. 

“Alright. I’m proud of you, Pat.” He furrowed his brow, looking up at Remus.

“For what?” 

“For going outside your comfort zone. For telling me what you want. I know how hard that can be, kid. Especially when you haven’t been able to express those things before. I know it’s scary. But you did it. So I’m proud of you.” Remus answered, and something warm and light bubbled up in his chest, as he smiled, so wide his cheeks hurt, but he couldn’t stop smiling, all the weight vanishing from his shoulders. 

“Nice picks, Pat. It really suits you.” Remy said, as they checked out, taking the tags off the clothes so he could wear them out. He’d also picked up a bracelet made of shimmery blue thin slate, shaped like flowers, and a necklace with a moonstone pendant. 

“Thanks.” He answered, absently swishing the skirt. “Do you think Logan could come over soon? I want his help putting in the lights. So they look like real stars.” He asked, missing the smile Remy shot his way, fondness on his face. 

“I think he’d love that, Patton. I’ll text your dads later, and we can work out another play date, ok hun?” He nodded, looking up at the small ding from the chip reader, Remy handing Remus a receipt, who frowned, opening his mouth. 

“Nuh uh uh, my store, my rules, babes. Friends and family discount. Don’t argue, you know you won’t win. It’s the least I can do for my two favorite customers.” Remus rolled his eyes, slipping the receipt into his pocket. 

“Fine, but don’t be surprised when you start finding cash stashed around in random places.” Remus trilled, taking Patton’s hand and heading for the door, as Remy snorted indignantly. 

“Please, two can play at that game.” Remy replied, and Remus just raised a hand in a wave, as they exited the store, the bell jingling behind them. 

“Alright, kid, time for icecream!”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makeover time!

“They’ve been gone for a long time.” Virgil fretted. 

“They’re fine. My brother loves him, and you know how good he is, at this sort of thing.” They looked up as the door opened, Remus entering, glancing behind him. 

“Sooo, did you forget our child at the store or..?” Roman asked, and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“He’s just a little nervous.” 

“Nervous? Why?” Virgil asked, and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“Chill out, for real. He’s just a little scared. Come on, Pat, it’s ok.” He murmured behind him, Patton finally poking his head inside, though his eyes were fixed firmly on the ground. 

“It’s ok, baby. This was for you, remember? Whatever you picked out is perfect.” Virgil murmured, and Patton finally stepped fully inside, though he looked terrified. 

“Oh, little prince, you look radiant.” Patton glanced up at that, a frown tugging on his lips. 

“You… you like it?” 

“Of course, Pat, it looks amazing.” Virgil had the breath knocked out of him as Patton practically launched himself at him, hugging him tightly. 

“Thank you.” Virgil’s voice was choked in his throat, so he just hugged him back tightly. 

“Do you wanna do hair or make up first?” Roman asked, hugging them both from behind. 

“We could do them both at once!” Remus calls. “If you work from the back, and I work from the front, that way we can reveal it all at once.” 

“What do you think, little prince?” 

“Ok.” He answered, excitement sparking again, now that it was clear he wasn’t going to be punished for his outfit choice. 

They pulled out the step stool from the kitchen and had him sit on it, turning on the lights so they were bright enough for Remus to see really well, situating him in the center of the living room. In the background they turned on Aristocats, since it was one he had already seen and wouldn’t feel the need to watch, so he could keep his eyes closed while Remus did makeup. 

He was… surprised, how nice it felt. Roman gently brushed out his hair, careful with any tangles, never pulling, massaging his scalp a little as he went, braiding and using the clips he’d picked out to pin it back, instructing Virgil when he couldn’t manage something one handed. Remus explained everything he was going to do before he did it, where he was going to touch him and with what, before he did it, swirling each brush over his palm first, to make sure he was okay with it on his face. 

Through it all, Virgil murmured to him, speaking softly about everything and nothing, between Remus and Roman’s explanations and compliments, that made him flush each time. The hands in his hair felt so good, and the brushes across his face occasionally tickled, making him giggle while doing his best to stay still, Remus never getting mad at him for it, simply smiling along with him, though most times they just felt soft and he had to stop himself from nuzzling into them. 

He was barely aware of his shoulders slowly relaxing, his breathing and heart rate slowing, all the tension he didn’t even know he had slowly dripping away, leaving him fuzzy and warm and soft inside. 

“Alright, honey. We’re ready. You wanna take a look?” Roman murmured, startling him slightly, out of his hazy zoning. He blinked his eyes open, smiling as Remus’s soft face immediately came into focus, the warmth in his eyes so sincere it made his breath catch. 

“Kid?” Remus asked, and he realized he hadn’t responded. 

“y-yeah. I’m ready.” He felt anticipation and nervousness flooding his system, all of it vanishing as Remus held up a mirror, his words fleeing at his reflection.

His lips were deep, dark blue. The underside of his eyes was a light pink, that faded upwards into sky blue, then deep blue, like the sky at sunset, and his forehead was the same dark blue as his lips, stars and constellations painted across his skin. His cheeks were dusted with soft glitter, the making them sparkle subtly, the rest of his skin rosier, smoother looking than usual, in subtle way he couldn’t quite pin down. 

“You like it?” He nodded enthusiastically, he couldn’t seem to find words right now. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, it was so… pretty. 

“Here, hold this for a sec, kid.” Remus handed him the mirror, and he heard rustling behind him. 

“Ok, I’ve got another mirror back here. You just move that one, until you can see the reflection of mine, and you’ll be able to see your hair!” Roman explained. He nodded, tilting the mirror until it caught Roman’s, eyes widening. 

Tiny braids were along the back of his head, like a little crown, and woven into them were little sparky butterfly clips. Woven into his hair was a sparkling thin mesh net that was barely visible, but created a shimmer over his hair that shone rainbow in the light.

“it’s pretty. I’m… pretty…” He mumbled, unable to help the awe in his voice. 

“Of course you are, baby. You’re so pretty, Patton.” Virgil answered, and he inhaled deeply, trying to keep from crying, cause he didn’t want to ruin the makeup Remus had worked so hard on. 

“I’ve never felt pretty before.” He sniffled softly as Remus pulled him into a hug, gently kissing the top of his head. 

“You’re beautiful, Patton. Inside and out, you’re so beautiful.” 

“You wanna turn on a movie, Pat? I’ll make some snacks, and you get settled on the couch, ok?” Roman asked softly, and Patton nodded, squeaking slightly as Remus lifted him up, onto the couch, settling Patton on his lap. 

“You two are the worst, you guys have to ask.” Virgil grumbled, but there was no real frustration behind it, as he slid onto the couch beside them. Patton felt a little brave, and reached a hand out, Virgil’s expression soft as he interlaced their fingers, squeezing gently. 

“Papa?” He asked cautiously, Virgil squeezing his hand a little harder, a little firmer, grounding him. 

“Yes, baby?” 

“thank you. For… for being my papa.” Virgil swallowed hard, running his thumb over his knuckles. 

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my son, Patton. You’re my baby.” Virgil murmured, leaning closer and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. 

“Alright, I have popcorn, m&m’s, and pretzels!” Roman announced, setting them all down on the couch between them all. Remus immediately stole the m&m’s and dumped the entire bag into the popcorn, getting spluttering protests from Roman, which elicited laughs from Patton and Virgil. 

Patton couldn’t remember the last time he felt this purely safe and warm and happy.  
…  
Remus hummed quietly to himself, as he poured himself a cup of warm milk, throwing a chocolate bomb into it, feeling oddly satisfied as he watched it melt. Much like his heart, whenever he was around Patton, he thought with a small snort.

Oh, Patton. That kid was too sweet for real life, he was sure he was getting a cavity from spending the day with him, every smile felt like winning gold in the Olympics, every laugh was the screaming roar of applause from a stage. 

And his precious little face, when he’d been doing his makeup. As he used the soft brushes on his face, all the lines and wrinkles had smoothed out, not from any cover up, but from his body releasing all the stress he’d been holding onto, the soft flutter of his eyes under their lids, when he brushed over a particularly pleasing spot, how after a while he started leaning into the hand he was using to support the kid’s chin, pancaking against it with a content ease, he was so breathtakingly sweet.

So trusting. Despite it all, Patton was so trusting, of the three of them. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to earn that trust, but he wouldn’t break it, would never take it for granted. He knew how hard that kind of trust was. Especially after what he’d gone through. 

He was on the couch, now, sandwiched between his dads, drowsily resting his head against Virgil, Lilo and Stich playing lowly in the background. It had been a busy day, for the little guy. 

He jumped, at a soft throat clear, nearly dropping his drink, though he managed to keep ahold of it, Roman looking at him rather sheepishly from kitchen entryway. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He waved away the apology, leaning back against the counter. 

“I’ve done worse to you, on purpose. We’ll transfer a tally from my scorecard to yours.” He took a sip, relishing the chocolate on his tongue, anticipation buzzing through him, from the sudden heaviness in the air. 

“Thank you. For being so good to him. So good with him. I know it isn’t easy-“ 

“It’s the easiest thing in the world, to fall in love with that little marshmallow you’ve adopted. It’s easy, to be kind when someone so obviously deserves it, so obviously expects the opposite.” 

“When you’ve been in their shoes.” Roman finished softly. He winced, setting his drink down to hide the shaking of his hands, unwelcome emotions flooding over him. 

“that was different. And a long time ago.” He hated how shaky his voice is, how dry and creaky, like a hinge that had never been oiled. “I have Jan now.” 

“I know. But that doesn’t mean the hurt has gone away, or the consequences of the hurt has faded completely. I’m married to Virgil, Ree. I know how much it sticks. I know how much of yourself you must see in him. Just… I’m here for you, ok? If you ever want to talk about it, if you ever need anything, I’m always here.” He let out a weak laugh, unable to hold his twin’s gaze, eyes fixed on the floor. 

“I hate you.” He muttered, shaking his head. “I hate you when you do this to me, Ro, you know that?” He asked, voice cracking. 

“What, when I’m expressing support?” Roman asked softly, a slightly teasing edge to his voice, though it was gentled with concern. 

“When you go all soft on me. It’s sickeningly domestic. Really, this whole setup you’ve got is. Truly, you’re the most bland American poster boy there is, except for the gay part.” 

“Remus-“ 

“I’m deflecting, I know.” He stopped Roman, he didn’t need the lecture. ‘It’s just… it’s hard, ok?” He looked up, as Roman settled his hands on his shoulders, his face serious. 

“I know. I didn’t mean to push, I’m sorry. It was… it was scary for me, too, y’know? Watching you go through that, feeling you pulling further and further away, I was just so scared I was going to lose you completely.” He couldn’t help but let Roman pull him close into a hug, squeezing him back just as tightly. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, muffled by his face being squished against Roman’s shoulder, trying to ignore the dampness growing under his eyes. 

“No. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Remus. Not a single thing, understand? None of it was your fault. You were never, never, to blame.” 

“I was such an idiot. I was so stupid. Why did I listen to him, why did I keep listening to him, why was I so convinced he was right about everything?” 

“Because that’s what he did best. He got in your head, he took over so slowly you didn’t even know it was happening, until you were in so deep it felt impossible to get out. Until it seemed normal. That’s what they do, Remus, and they do it well. You’re not stupid, for it. You’re just human, and all that matters is that you got out, and you’re still here, and you’re okay. You’re ok.” 

“I wouldn’t have survived it without you. You’re the one who stuck by me, who wouldn’t go away, no matter how much I told you to, how much he told you to. No matter what awful things I said to you, no matter how horrible-“ He broke off, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. 

“It wasn’t you. Not really, and I could see it, I could see him, practically putting the words in your mouth, pulling your strings, I could see how much you were hurting, even if you couldn’t. I could feel it, I don’t know if it’s a twin thing or what, but I could feel it and I was never going to give up on you, never.” He let out a soft sob, feeling Roman hug him closer. 

“why are you so good to me, Ro? How… are you so good?”

“It’s like you said, Ree. It’s easy to be kind to someone who so obviously deserves it.” 

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, before they pulled apart and pulled themselves together, heading back to the couch. He just knew it was a very, very, long while.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's some Remus/Janus softness and fluff and hurt/comfort for ya.

He was 17, when he met the love of his life. 

That’s what he called him, anyways. That’s what he was sure he was, at first. The way His eyes sparkled, the way He smiled, the way He laughed, it all sent butterflied winging through his stomach, and he loved that feeling. 

He said they were soulmates, that He loved him more than anything, that He just wanted the best for him, wanted him to be the very best he could be, and that’s why He was so hard on him. Because He knew he could be better, if he’d just try.

That’s why he needed to change his wardrobe. Change his hair. Change the way he spoke, joked, acted, was. Needed to slowly change everything about himself. Change who he associated with.

Anytime he was around his other friends, He got jealous, got angry, accused him of cheating and being unfaithful, and He would storm off in a fit of tears, inconsolable. Eventually he stopped hanging around them as often. Then stopped hanging around them at all. 

He quit the theater. It was too provocative, too out there, and Jesus, Remus, was he trying to be a total slut? 

He was so useless, he couldn’t take care of himself, so he moved in with Him, since his family was such a bad influence. His brother especially, He would say with a sneer. 

Remus would brush it off, with a smile, a forced laugh, he’d learned not to argue, that only made Him mad and he didn’t want to make him mad, and He was right about most everything else, so maybe He was right about Roman, after all. 

He couldn’t go out on his own, anymore. It made Him jealous, it made Him cry, and he hated seeing him cry, so he just… stopped going out. Stopped doing much of anything. He wasn’t very good at any of his hobbies, his music wasn’t anything special, his art even less so, no matter how proud of it he was, it was always met with disdain and disappointment, a ‘can’t you do anything well, Remus?’ And he’d wilt once more, apologize. 

That’s why Remus needed Him. Because he wasn’t any good on his own. 

Then Roman had come over. Uninvited. Unnanounced. Unwanted. 

“Just let me see him!” He’d heard, from where he was curled in the corner of the bedroom. He’d been told not to leave, until this was dealt with, and didn’t he want to be such a good boy, for Him? It was accompanied with a soft stroke of his cheek, that left him gasping, because physical affection was such a rare and precious reward, saved for when he did something very well. He’d nodded, staying put, as He left the room. 

“He doesn’t want to see you.” He answered coldly, and he could imagine his glare, could picture the one on his twin’s face.

“Then let him come tell me that, and I’ll go away.” He shivered at Roman’s voice, so hot, when His was always so cold. 

“He’s got better things to do than deal with you.” The scorn was palpable, bitter enough it burned his throat. Roman wouldn’t take well to that. He heard a small scuffle like sound, then the door hitting the wall, and footsteps coming inside. 

“Remus! Please, I’m worried sick, just… just talk to me!” He could feel His eyes burning holes into him, the hair on his neck prickling, every instinct screaming to stay still, stay quiet, be good, Remus, for once act like you’re worth something. “please.” Roman said again, softer, and he couldn’t. 

He got up, shaking, and cracked open the door, slipping into the hall. His eyes flicked up, shooting back down to the floor, after meeting His eyes for a moment, which were burning with cold fury, pure ire, and his brain was screaming at him for being so stupid, for being unable to do this one completely simple thing that was asked of him. 

“hi.” He muttered, more whispered, his throat gone dry under His withering stare. 

“Remus.” His brother sounds relieved, which is odd, he doesn’t know why Roman would care, it’s not like he’s given a damn about Roman, recently. He knows what he has to say. What will save him, from this stupid choice he’s made. 

“Go… go away.” He muttered, hearing Roman take a step closer. 

“What? Re-“ 

“I said go away! I don’t want you here, Roman! I don’t need you checking in on me like I’m some incompetent toddler! Just because you’re the perfect family favorite, star studded Roman and I’m not doesn’t mean I’m fucking stupid!” 

“Remus… please, I just want to help.” He barked out a harsh laugh, advancing, expression dark enough it sent Roman back for every step forwards.

“I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP! I’m happy, I’m in love, and maybe if you could get over your hero complex you’d see that your meddling is just making me angry! Go get a life! Stop trying to run mine!” 

“I haven’t-“ 

“You always have. It’s always you top priority, it’s always sorry, Remus, Roman has a music recital this Friday, we can’t go to your art show, sorry Remus, Roman’s starring in the musical, there’s no time to come see your band that you’ve spent weeks rehearsing week, it’s always yes, yes, yes, Roman, no, no, no, Remus.  
Well, guess what? This time, this one time, I have something you don’t. And here you are, trying to break it up, trying to take it! Well, I’ve had enough, Roman. ENOUGH! SO GET OUT OF MY LIFE AND LEAVE ME ALONE!” He screamed, shoving Roman out the door and slamming it closed, collapsing against it a moment later, chest heaving. 

“Remus… color me impressed, I didn’t know you had that in you.” 

“I… I…” 

“Did a very, very, good job, love.” He helped pull him to his feet, and for a moment, His face was soft, and He pressed a kiss against his lips. 

“Now, it’s almost time for supper, isn’t it? And you don’t want to be late serving us again.” He murmured. 

“R-right. Yes, I’ll… go.” He pulled away, heading shakily to the kitchen, not sure why tears are streaming down his face. He’s happy. He’s never been happier.  
…  
“Remus.” He jolted, looking up from his roller suitcase full of makeup, that he’s reorganizing, because his hands needed something to do, and he’d hoped arranging them all in order of shade from lightest to darkest would work. Instead, he was sitting in front of the suitcase, one drawer pulled out, and nothing touched. He got the feeling Janus had said his name several times, already, from the look of soft concern on his face. “Where are you at, darling?” Janus murmured, and he let out a bitter breath. 

“Nowhere that matters.” He answered, wincing at the bitterness that seeped into his voice. Janus simply softened further, coming to kneel beside him, lightly resting a hand on his. 

He closed his eyes, letting out a low breath, leaning lightly against Janus, feeling him press a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Nothing that makes you upset ‘doesn’t matter’, dearest.” He turned his head, so it was buried in the crook of Janus’s shoulder, using the breathing pattern he’d picked up from Virgil so long ago, now, to keep himself together. 

Janus was so warm. Where He had always been cold, icily cold, both in his angers and affections, Janus was always warm. When he was angry, he was furious, eyes bright and gleaming, pacing like a man possesed, the rage roiling off him. When he was happy, he burned like the sun, smile blinding and eyes brilliant, hands gesturing wildly. And when Janus looked at him, always when he looked at him, his gaze was tenderly warm, like sitting in the middle of a field in summer, gentle and heating him up from the inside out. Sometimes he wondered how he hadn’t melted into a human pile of goo and viscera, from how warm Janus burned. 

“I love you.” He whispered, chest warming further as Janus squeezed his hand, making no move to dislodge him, as he breathed in Janus’s scent of summer rains and ink stained paper. 

Janus never told him what to do. Never told him how to feel, never stopped him from going out, unless he was afraid he was going to hurt himself, and even then he wouldn’t force him to stay, simply would try to entice him. Janus never told him who he could see and when, let him go out without even asking who he was going to be with, where he was going, always letting him volunteer that information for himself, if he wanted to. Janus never demanded anything of him. It was always, always a choice.

“Oh, dearest. I love you, too. I love you so much, Remus.” Came the soft reply, and he knew Janus meant it, meant it in a way that He never had, loved him because of his dark and gory sense of humor, his somewhat cynic view of the world, his incredibly messy and often undecipherable art, because of his experiments that led to explosions in the kitchen, loved him because of his off the wall style and fashion statements, loved him even when he felt so shitty he couldn’t force himself out of bed for an entire day. 

Janus loved him. 

“Can you…” He shook his head. It was stupid. He knew, he already knew, and asking sounded so pathetic. 

“Remus. I will do anything for you.” He cracked a small smile. 

“What if I told you I’d killed a man and needed help to hide the body?” Janus snorted. 

“Honestly, Remus, I’d be offended if you didn’t ask me to help with that. I’m a lawyer, dear, I’d think I could offer the best advice.” He kissed Janus’s neck, feeling him hum in response, his pulse jerking faster ever so slightly, so he did it again. 

“Remus. Was there something you needed?” Janus interrupted, turning his head so they were face to face, Remus staring into those beautiful eyes of his. 

“can you… say you love me? Again?” He burned red just from asking, but Janus simply smiled, cupping his face with one hand, stroking it lightly with his thumb a couple times, making him lean into the touch, Janus’s hands were always so soft, so gentle. 

“Remus Prince. I love you. With everything that I am, and everything in my heart, I will always love you, dearest.” Janus leaned in, tantalizingly slowly, before pressing their lips together. It was deep and slow and sent warmth and happiness bubbling through him, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned into it, shivering as Janus’s hands found his way into his hair, tangling around it, his own hugging around Janus’s waist. “I love you.” Janus murmured again, between kisses, until they finally had to pause to breathe, though they stayed tangled together. 

“Do you mind me asking, what brought this on?” Janus murmured, and his mood immediately darkened again, though it didn’t send him spiraling like before, not with Janus here, holding him. 

“Just… memories.” 

“Ah.” Janus didn’t say more, simply stroked his hair, letting him slowly lean forwards, his head resting against Janus’s chest, one arm wrapping around him, pulling him close. “I will never hurt you, dearest. Never.” Janus swore, and he smiled, nuzzling closer.

“I know, Jannie.” 

“And I will obliterate anyone, anyone in the world, who does.” That would get a laugh out of him, but he knows Janus means it, will hunt down anyone and everyone who dares to hurt him, and that maybe shouldn’t make him feel so safe, but it does. 

“I know.” He mumbled. 

He was content to stay like that forever, but then Janus’s phone rang, and he cursed. 

“I can ignore it.” Janus said fiercely, but he shook his head, pulling away. 

“If someone’s actually calling you, it’s important. Answer it. I’m… I’m feeling a lot better, now.” He answered, Janus giving him a searching look before deciding that he was telling the truth, pulling out his phone. 

“What?” He asks, flipping it open, because of course Janus still used a flip phone. Remus rolled his eyes, but stilled as Janus paled, then let out an angry hiss. 

“You can’t be serious, the judge can’t possibly-“ The other person must have cut him off, which Remus can’t imagine is a wise choice, and Janus looked like he wanted to scream. 

“I understand, but I have already proven my lack of contact with him, his relation to me is of no consequence, I’ve barely spoken to him even once, and that was just exchanging pleasantries!” Remus got a sinking feeling in his chest, an idea of who they were talking about settling in his gut. Janus spluttered. 

“That’s prespostorous, surely the judge understands-“ He was rubbing the bridge of his nose, now, a sure sign of defeat. 

“If by extenuating circumstances you mean the police’s incompetence, the judge’s complete lack of any and all sensibility and those bastard’s ability to hire an expensive lawyer thanks to their friends in a higher place, then yes. I understand perfectly.” Janus gritted out, voice filled with false saccharine sweetness. 

“I know. I don’t want them getting off, either, but if he doesn’t want to, I refuse to make him relive all of that. I’ll let you know either way tomorrow.” With that, Janus snapped the phone shut, slumping back to stare at the ceiling. 

“Fuck. Fucking hell, those bastards.” He muttered furiously. 

“Jan? What is it?” Janus sighed, shaking his head.

“If we want the case against the Masons to move forwards…” He ran a hand through his hair, looking more exhausted than Remus had ever seen him. “Patton is going to have to testify.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... sorry?


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus interviews Patton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, y'all asked for Patton and Janus interacting, don't be salty that I answered your request.

“Alright. You understand that they can’t stay in here, for this, correct?” Janus asked, arranging the camera so that they would both be in frame, sitting on opposite sides of Patton’s little play table, though Janus didn’t complain about the height, simply scrunching up his knees. 

“I know.” He mumbled, looking down at the table, fiddling with a loose string in his sleeve. 

“We can stop whenever you like, and you can refuse to answer any question. This is all voluntary, and if something makes you too upset, we can take a break.” He nodded again, still not looking up.

“ok.” 

“Patton. We’re gonna step out now, ok? We’ll be right in the living room if you need anything.” 

“Ok.” He said again, smiling weakly at Roman squeezing his shoulder, Virgil’s murmured ‘you got this’, as they left, then it was just him and Janus. Janus let out a small breath, and he shivered slightly at the weight of his eyes on him. 

“You don’t like me much, do you Patton?” He jolted at that question, eyes going wide and excuses ready to tumble from his mouth, frozen as Janus chuckled slightly. “It’s perfectly alright not to like me, Patton, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You… aren’t m-mad?” He looked up, surprised to see no trace of anger or disdain on Janus’s face. Instead, he was smiling smally, warmth in his eyes. 

“No, I’m not mad. I’m simply… curious, I suppose. I don’t want to scare you, Patton, I don’t want you to feel afraid of me, or uncomfortable in my presence. So, before we start this, is there anything I can do differently, to ease your mind? Is it because of… of this?” He asked, gesturing to the scar that covered half his face. 

“What? No! I don’t care about that.” It was Janus’s turn to look surprised at his instant refusal and slight outrage in his voice. “S not nice, to judge people cause of how they look. And… it musta hurt. It’s not fair to hurt you more cause of it.” He answered, and Janus seemed to soften, somehow, though nothing about his posture shifted. 

“Well, that is awfully kind, of you. Usually, it’s the first thing people notice about me.” 

“I noticed your eyes. They’re pretty.” He blushed slightly, he didn’t mean to say that, but it just slipped out. Janus smiled, and he found himself relaxing ever so slightly. 

“Thank you, Patton. On the risk of ruining the mood, what is it, then? What can I do?” He looked down, biting his lip. 

“You… you aren’t scaring me now. It’s… I can’t ever tell what you’re thinking. I don’t… you seemed cold and hard and it reminded me of th-them, and when I can’t tell what someone wants I get h-hurt…” 

“I will never hurt you, Patton. Never. Do you believe me?” He hesitated, unsure how to answer. “It’s ok if you don’t.   
I’m a lawyer, Patton. That means it’s my job, to be unreadable, to hide what I’m really thinking or feeling and to present only whatever emotions I believe the jury will respond to most.  
It’s second nature, to me, to hide my intentions, my emotions, I’m an actor, in a way. Court is part performance, part presentation of fact. I sometimes find it hard to turn that off and be simply myself.   
How about this. If you can’t tell what I’m thinking, and you want to know, you can ask me at any time and I’ll tell you everything that’s going on in my head in that moment. Would that help?” 

“Is that…ok?” Janus nodded.

“Yes. I will never be angry and I will never refuse to answer. Will that work?” 

“Y-yeah. I think so.” Just knowing the option was there, made him feel a little better, made him a little less wary. And… and this conversation had helped, actually talking to him, seeing a little bit of who Janus actually was. 

“Alright. Good.” Janus’s expression fell into a slight frown, and he sighed. “I hate to ask this of you, but are you ready to get started with the questions, Patton?”

“Yeah.” Janus nodded. 

“Alright. And at the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’ll say it once more, we can and will stop whenever you like.” 

Then Janus hit a button, and the red light on the camera turned on.   
…  
“Can you tell me your name, please?” He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. 

“Patton Prince.” His voice barely trembled, and he focused on that, on just breathing and not freaking out. 

“And you were a foster of Tom and Katie Mason, correct?” He nodded, and Janus’s eyes softened, though his face stayed that same neutral expression. It didn’t make him wary this time, though, not after what Janus had said. He focused on his eyes, instead, which were still warm and gentle, though the rest of him was stiff and formal.

“I need you to give me an answer out loud, Patton.” 

“Y-yes. I was… was fostered, by them.” 

“thank you. Can you confirm for me, that this is a picture of them?” Janus held out a photo, and his breath caught, he remembered those faces, twisted in anger, screaming, yelling, hurt- 

“yes.” He whispered, jerking his eyes away, hugging his arms around himself tighter. 

“Thank you. Now, these questions are going to be difficult, Patton, but please do your best to answer them. When you lived with the Masons, did they ever hurt you?” 

“Yes.” He breathed out, surprised at the emphaticness of his own voice. “Y-yes. They did.” 

“How often, would you say, did they use physical violence against you?” 

“All the t-time. Every day. Anytime I did something wrong, or bad, they would h-hurt me.” 

“And what were these reasons, they hurt you?” 

“I w-wasn’t smart enough. I d-didn’t listen well enough. I… I hadn’t eaten in a long time and I tried to take a snack, or g-get a glass of water, and I wasn’t supposed to, I was st-stealing.” 

“Were food and water often kept from you?” 

“I had to d-do something, to earn it. Cl-clean or sweep or… or do cl-othes, and when I messed up I didn’t get to e-eat.”

“In what other ways, would they hurt you?” He curled tighter in on himself, shaking. “Patton, do you need a break?” 

“N-no. They… they would hit me or slap me. They would grab me really tight, sometimes so tight I would start bleeding. They would shove me against a wall, or to the floor. Down the stairs.” 

“Ok. And what other punishments, did they use?” His breathing hitched, and he could feel tears starting to prick his eyes. 

“Th-the b-b-asement. They’d lock me in the basement. It was so d-dark and cold, and there were spiders, and sometimes they told me if I screamed, if I made noise, the monsters would find me and t-tear me apart, and I couldn’t see anything, and I was scared, so scared, that they weren’t gonna let me out, every time I didn’t know if they were ever gonna let me out.” 

“Did they ever tell you, that they weren’t going to let you out?” 

“S-sometimes. Sometimes they said if I was good, they’d let me out faster, if I didn’t scream or cry like a b-baby. But I always did, I couldn’t stop being so st-stupid!” He cried, and Janus inhaled sharply. 

His vision was blurry, and he couldn’t see through the tears, through the adrenaline and panic coursing through him, the memories of the darkness and the terror and screaming, banging on the door, clawing at it until his nails broke, until he had splinters in his fingers, until he fell to the floor and curled into a ball, the darkness closing in on him, crushing him, choking him, and-

And someone was holding him. 

He gasped at the warmth flooding through him, shocking him out of the past, clinging to the person, to Janus, who had enfolded him, was rocking him slowly, brushing a hand up and down his back. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Patton, You did so well, dear heart, you were so brave, for me, and I’m so sorry for making you do this.” Janus’s voice cracked, and he clung tighter, shaking.

“D-did I do g-good?” Janus let out a choked breath, pulling back slightly, to look him in his eyes. 

“You did wonderfully, Patton. You did so well, dear heart. Those people are never going to get the chance to hurt anyone else ever again. I promise. All because of you, darling. Because you’re so brave, you’re so incredibly brave.” He threw himself back at Janus, who caught him easily, stroking his back and murmuring soft words of support and sweetness, perfectly happy to stay there doing just that as long as Patton needed.  
…  
“Virgil, please, sit down. You’re making me dizzy.” Roman said softly, watching Virgil pace back and forth across the room, his hands shaking and Roman could see him counting his breathing, trying to remain calm. Virgil shook his head, continuing to pace. 

“I can’t. I feel like if I stop, I’ll explode. I can’t…” Roman caught his hand, tugging him to a stop. 

“He’s going to be ok.” Virgil instantly deflated, and Roman felt his heart break, at how tired Virgil looked in that moment, how defeated he seemed. “Virgil. He’s going to be ok.” 

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what this could do to him.” 

“That’s true. I don’t, not completely. But I know that he has us. And I know that we will always do our best to make sure he is going to be ok. No matter how hard this is for him, or how it affects him, we will be here. He will never be alone, Virg, and he knows it. He knows he can come to us.” Roman answered, and Virgil slumped onto the couch, leaning against Roman, and taking a shuddering breath. “And you know Janus. He’ll be as careful as he can be, given the circumstances. He’ll do whatever he can, to make sure Patton knows he’s safe.” 

“I know. I know, I just…” 

“You worry. It’s fair, to worry. I’m worried too, darling.” They looked up as they heard a door open, and Virgil raised a brow as Janus stepped onto the landing, coming down the stairs. 

“Jan? Where’s…” Roman trailed off, as Patton’s head peeked out of Janus’s black button down coat, like a kitten tucked into someone’s sweater. His eyes were puffy and his nose was red, the remains of some tears on his face, and he looked tired and drawn, old in a way that made Roman desperately sad. 

“hi.” He mumbled, managing a shaky smile, before it dropped, and he pressed his face back against Janus, burrowing into his coat again. 

“Hi, baby. How are you doing?” Virgil asked, scooting over, so Janus could sit down between them. 

“M’ok.” He mumbled. “Not… not good, but ok.” 

“That’s good, baby. Are you comfy, in there?” Virgil asked, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“mhm. It’s nice.” 

“You wanna come out?” Roman asked, a bit laughingly. 

“no.” Patton answered, snuggling tighter, and Virgil snorted at the discombobulated look on Janus’s face, the unsurity there, as he looked down at Patton, only able to see the top of his head. “not really.” 

“That’s ok, honey, you just stay in there till you’re ready.” Roman replied, stifling his laughter as Janus’s bafflement increased. Patton’s only response was a small sound, and his little hands grasping tighter to Janus’s shirt, his eyes closed and his breathing steadying out as the warmth and safety lulled him to sleep. 

“How’d it go?” Virgil asked quietly, distracting Janus from the child in his lap that he didn’t really know what to do with. 

“As well as you’d expect. He did very well. There’s no way they’re getting away with it, not once the court sees that video.” Janus answered, letting out a low sigh, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well, he seems to have taken to you, at least.” Roman said, and he smiled slightly. 

“Not at first, but we worked things out. He’s exhausted, poor thing, not that I’m surprised. That’s a lot, even for an adult, much less a child.” He sighed. “Honestly, I wouldn’t want him living with anyone other than you two. You’re probably the best pair he could ask for, the best prepared to help him. Of course, I always knew you’d make wonderful parents.” 

“Shut up, Jan.” Virgil muttered, leaning over so his head was resting on Janus’s shoulder, looking down at Patton. From this angle, he could see his face, pressed against Janus’s shirt, his eyes flickering slightly under their lids, his breathing deep and even, his hands fisted around his shirt. He looked peaceful.

“He’s brave, you know. You and Patton both.” Roman answered, reaching across Janus to take his hand, making Virgil flush further. 

“You’re so cute when you blush, Virgil.” He groaned.

“I hate both of you.” He answered.

“Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
